Hope in the Darkness
by mousie2
Summary: The full blurb is far too long to fit here but here's a basic idea. This is an AragornÉowyn story through the eyes of both set during the Two Towers. I have updated the story a little, now with corrected spelling, grammar, and Elvish. COMPLETE!
1. Uneasy Feelings

**Blurb:** Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan, has kept her uncle, the king, and the kingdom from the hands of his evil advisor, Gríma Wormtongue, but her hope begins to fade. She has watched him become weaker, she has seen her brother, Éomer leave her to fight what is left of the Uruk-hai and she has watched her cousin Théodred slip away from the living. The arrival Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli is a burst of hope for the people and Éowyn. But Saruman is plotting to attack Rohan with what is left of his forces, after the assault on Isengard by the Ents, in an effort to stop his huge army from marching on Edoras and Helm's Deep. Éomer and Théoden forbid Éowyn to fight in the battle of Helm's Deep although she has the skill to. She begins to see that she will always be the one left behind, until the time when no one will return. The War of the Ring has begun and she knows that she may never see Aragorn again. Will Éowyn defy the king's orders? Will she risk everything to fight beside Aragorn? Can she prove to all of them that she has the skill to make a difference? Will she return alive? Is there hope in the darkness for her?

**Note:** In this adaptation of 'The Lord of the Rings', the story is quite different, however, you may recognise a few lines from both the movie and the book, particularly in the Battle of Helm's Deep. Arwen is not in this version as if she was there would be no romance between Éowyn and Aragorn (meaning that she is so pretty that Aragorn would not even think of betraying her). Frodo has taken the ring with Sam, Merry, Pippin and Gandalf the White, to Minas Tirith to assist Denethor and Faramir in their struggle against Mordor. Meanwhile, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli have proceeded to Rohan's capital, Edoras, to ask help of Théoden, king of Rohan. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from Lord of the Rings; they are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. 

**A/N:** Ok, this chapter has finally been edited, just like I promised. Now with updated scenes and Sindarin. 

* * * 

**Chapter 1: Uneasy Feelings**

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had been riding for days. Hasufel and Arod were tired, so Aragorn called the company to a halt. The sun was setting slowly behind the snow-capped peaks in the distance. The shadows were falling over the rustic landscape that was Rohan. Darkness was falling and they needed to set up camp. 

Aragorn stared out over the plains from their position. Legolas dismounted and walked over to his friend, followed by a rather sore Gimli. He laid a hand on his shoulder. 

"Man na han? Delu na?" (What is it? Is there trouble?) he asked. 

"Law, ta na ú-nad," (No, it is nothing,) he replied as his blue-grey eyes surveyed the green valley below, gleaming in the fast falling light. 

Legolas turned his bright blue eyes upward, scouring the skies thoroughly. Aragorn went on to unpack the horses and set up camp. Gimli set off to look for something for them all to eat that evening while Legolas went looking for firewood. When the fire was made and Gimli had returned with a few rabbits and some herbs, they sat around the fire and, as they ate, discussed the following day's journey. 

Aragorn seemed on-edge and troubled throughout the night. He sat in silence, sharpening his sword, staring vaguely at the ground. Legolas rose from his place beside and seated himself beside Aragorn. 

"Man le trasta? (What troubles you?) I sense no danger here and yet you seem ill-at-ease."

Aragorn sighed and lifted his eyes to the stars. 

"Something troubles me but I am unsure of what it is. It is hidden from my sight and yet it causes me concern."

"Losto, mellon nîn, losto," (Rest, my friend, rest) suggested Legolas. "You are weary from our travels. You have barely slept." 

 Legolas and Gimli welcomed a good night's sleep, but Aragorn could not sleep; he sat on a rock, overlooking the valley, pipe in mouth, staring into the endless night. The stars glittered above his head in the dark skies. 

            Far away, in Edoras, at the Hall of Meduseld, Éowyn also struggled to find rest. Outside, the night was pitch-black darkness, clouds concealed the stars in the sky, but it was not so dark as that which had engulfed the Golden Hall of Meduseld. The evil that had consumed them, sending all into a spiral of despair from which they could not escape. Théodred was slipping further away from the land of the living after he was attacked by orcs, Gríma was tightening his grip on the kingdom of Rohan and Éowyn knew that it was only a matter of time before Théoden fell into darkness. 

She paced up and down the main hall in a nervous fashion, her white gown trailing on the stone floor. Her footsteps echoed around the massive room and off the stone walls. How she wanted Éomer to return and comfort her; how she hoped that Théoden would be rid of Gríma. As she returned to her room, she saw a shadow cast itself on the stone floor. She knew to whom it belonged. 

"Fair lady, Éowyn," said a silky voice behind her.

"Do no address me so, Gríma," she retorted, as the footsteps grew nearer. 

She felt Gríma's bony hand reached for her slender one, felt the ice cold of his lips against her soft skin. It made her blood run cold. She withdrew her hand sharply, glaring at him.

"How dare you," she breathed. "You have no right to touch me."

"But for a lady so beautiful as yourself, it seems fitting," he answered slyly.

"I do not wish for such compliments from you, Gríma," she said icily, turning away; but he caught her wrist.

"Do not turn away the king's advisor so casually, my lady," he growled. "How can you be sure that anyone will take you, you are so headstrong, not an admired quality." 

He stalked towards her, expending a hand to her face, so close to her skin. 

"You are alone, Éowyn," he said. "No one will save you from this misery. All I can offer is myself."

It seemed to her then, that all hope had deserted her. She was alone, unable to escape this darkness that had begun to consume her home, her loved ones, and herself. Doubt gnawed at her mind, but she refused to yield. She pushed him away. 

"What makes you think that I would ever choose you?" she spat. "Your evil is clear to me, even if you veil it from other eyes. Your words are poison. Leave me." 

"I am the king's advisor, and I demand respect from all," he replied, his face filled with rage, seizing her wrist again. 

"And I am a lady, sister-daughter to the King, and I too demand respect," commanded Éowyn. "I insist that you release me or I shall call the guards and we can take this matter to the king." 

She glared at him, slowly, she felt the grip loosen slowly, and watched him recoil. 

"This is not the end," he hissed. "You cannot escape the darkness that falls now. Things have been set in motion that cannot be undone." 

He swept out of the room, his robes swishing behind him, as he left. 

Éowyn stood silently in the massive hall for some time before she left, lost in confusion and bewilderment. As she made her way to her room, she pondered Gríma's words. Was he right? Would, could anyone save her from this misery? 

She sank onto her bed and lay still for some time, the conversation still flying around in her head. The all-consuming shadow that had settled over Edoras, the shadow she felt no one else could see or feel. The despair that had crept into her home and was now destroying her uncle. Perhaps she was alone. Perhaps no one would save them. No, she could not let herself think in this way.  She would not abandon hope, nor would she give Gríma the pleasure of seeing her so distressed. She must remain strong, for her people, for her family, for herself. 

* * * 

**A/N:** So, what do you think of the redone Chapter 1? Longer? More detailed? I thought it was a bit rushed when I first wrote it. Now was the time to rewrite parts of it, AND correct my Sindarin! Yay! To those who pointed that out, thank you. I have spent the past six months correcting it, and teaching myself how to form verb and noun endings, the rules, etc. from about 5 different sites. And now, COMPLETED! I'm so proud. *Beams* 

Ok, then, on to the next rewritten chapter! 

Mousie2


	2. Edoras

**A/N:** I still recall those comments from people that Aragorn was far too informal with Éowyn. I agree completely, after reviewing my writing. It has been altered, along with Éowyn's crying, which she now does less of. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Tolkien's Middle Earth, or its inhabitants

* * *

**Chapter 2: Edoras**

Early the next morning, Aragorn and company set off on the final trek to Edoras. They had been travelling for so many days that they could not say but the thought that they were close to their destination was comforting and lifted everyone's spirits. For the entire day, the plains of Rohan sped past them as they raced along the flat. By late afternoon, they were able to see the Golden Hall of Meduseld, glistening in the falling sunlight. 

"What is that light in the distance, shining on the top of that hill?" asked Gimli, straining to see what it was. Legolas stared in the same direction, also trying to make it out.

"It looks like a large hall, there are golden decorations but it is too far to see what they are of," he answered.

"It is the Golden Hall of Meduseld in the capital of Edoras," replied Aragorn. "There dwells Théoden, son of Thengel, King of Rohan." 

 The company rode up to the gates of Edoras, where several guards, clad in green cloaks with shining helmets bearing two golden horses, came to meet them. They wore stern expressions. 

"What is your business here, strangers?" enquired one guard, with a particularly splendid white plume of horsehair in his helmet.

Aragorn stepped forward, "We have come to see Théoden King. We are friends of Gandalf the White, and come with news for him."

"Who is this Gandalf the White? Is not Saruman still master of the Wizard's Council?"

"Gandalf has taken that role after the ransacking of Isengard. Saruman has been responsible for the increased number of orcs and Uruk-hai that have been allowed to wander these parts," replied Aragorn

"Saruman has betrayed us then," said the guard; the others around him murmured in shock.

"His forces are depleted now, he should not pose a threat," assured Aragorn, "but we must bring this news to the king, there are some other things that he must consider."

"Wait here," instructed the guard, and walked up the stairs to the king's hall.

Aragorn looked up at the Golden Hall; his eyes caught sight of a woman standing still, on the steps of Meduseld. She was dressed in a long robe of white wool with a silver and gold woven belt that fell from her waist, her golden hair caught in the breeze and fluttered briefly. 

Aragorn looked away momentarily as the guard returned and opened the gate for them. He again looked up at the steps, but the woman had disappeared. Had she been real? Had he just imagined her?

            Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli entered the city, escorted by four guards. Gimli looked suspiciously at them and grumbled something about the guards not trusting them and discriminating against dwarves. As they drew nearer to Meduseld, they were able to see the fine carvings on the black and gold pillars that depicted stories of the Rohirrim from long ago. 

When they reached the top of the steps, they noticed that Théoden himself had come to greet them; Aragorn fell on one knee.

"Do not kneel before me, Aragorn, son of Arathorn," he said kindly, "it is I who should be bowing before you, as Isildur's heir." Aragorn rose and looked at him, smiling.

"It is good to see you well, Théoden King," he replied. He beckoned to Legolas and Gimli to step forward. 

"Allow me to introduce my companions, Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, and Gimli, son of Glóin, of the Dwarves of the Lonely Mountain."

Théoden greeted both Elf and Dwarf graciously and with a smile.

"Greetings, Théoden King," said Legolas, "I trust that all is well in your kingdom."

Théoden smiled. "It is good to see friends of old return to these lands again," he said cheerfully. He paused momentarily as if reminiscing of old times.

"Forgive me, you must be tired from your travels," he started, "come in and rest yourselves."

            Théoden lead them through the mighty doors into a large hall, splendidly decorated with tapestries and banners. The room was softly lit and at the end of the hall, Aragorn could see a large, ancient throne; behind it stood a tall, slender figure. As he drew closer, Aragorn was able to observe that it was a woman, the same one he had seen standing outside on the steps. She was so mysterious and captivating; her beauty, grace and stature radiated from her. He could tell that she was of high class. She stepped forward out of the shadow of the throne, into the sunlight. He felt as though her deep blue eyes were gazing into his, reaching into his soul. She was quite young, a maiden no more than seventeen, but her expression was stern as steel, cold as frost and sad, as though she had seen so many hardships for someone so young.

"Allow me to introduce you all," said Théoden, "this is my niece, Éowyn, daughter of Éomund."

The woman curtsied low before them all and rose again. Suddenly, as she rose to her feet, she caught sight of Aragorn; she paused and her stern expression changed to one of tranquillity. He walked over to her, taking her hand and kissing it gently.

"Lady Éowyn," he murmured, his eyes fixated on hers. She blushed furiously but composed herself enough to reply: 

"My lord," she said, but started abruptly when a greasy man entered cloaked in black robes and his lips curled into a bitter expression. His eyes flickered to Aragorn and then to Éowyn; he glowered wrathfully. 

Aragorn saw that Éowyn's face had become cold and pale once more. She turned and walked hastily out of the room, glancing briefly at Aragorn for a moment.

"This is Gríma, son of Gálmód. My advisor," said Théoden.

Gríma bowed but remained silent, still staring at the door, which Éowyn had gone through.

Éowyn hurried along the passage. She hoped to reach her room before Gríma decided to follow her. As she passed the door to Théodred's room, she halted briefly. How she wanted to see how he was. Slowly, she opened his door and crept inside, closing the door silently behind her. Moving gradually over to Théodred's bedside, she knelt on the floor beside him and sat in stillness for some time.

Gríma had followed her, not long after she had left the hall. He had hidden behind a corner, watching as she entered Théodred's room. He now began to move towards it and, gently edging the door open without a sound, he entered. Éowyn did not hear him come in. Her grief was consuming her; tears rolled in steams down her pale face. Gríma approached her slowly.

"He is gone, Éowyn," said Gríma, smirking to himself. "He passed away a short time ago, it is over."

"How dare you disturb me in my grieving, Gríma, leave me," she snapped, holding her head high.

"Can I not console you in your sadness, my lady?" asked Gríma shrewdly.

"Leave, now," said Éowyn, sharply turning to face him with an irate look upon her usually fair face. Gríma only stepped closer, reaching for her cheek. She backed away abruptly, but not before he had grasped her face, pulling it close to his. He stroked her cheek softly.

"You are so fair, my lady, so fair and so cold, like a pale spring still clutching to a winter's chill," said Gríma. "What a pity you have such a vicious temper," he snarled, as Éowyn lashed out. 

"My temper is only to do with you, Gríma," she remarked. "I do not need your sympathies or your comforts, I beg you one last time to leave me," and with that, she turned and left the room. Éowyn continued to her own chambers to ready herself for dinner.****

* * *

            Aragorn had become concerned. Éowyn had not come back yet and it was almost time to eat. He worried that something had happened to her and was suspicious that Gríma could be behind it. He entered the door, which he had seen both Éowyn and Gríma go through, finding himself in a long passageway. He strolled along, past several rooms until he arrived at one that he suspected might belong to Éowyn. He knocked at the door. Shortly, Éowyn had come to the door and opened it. Aragorn could tell that she had been crying.

"What has upset you so, Lady Éowyn?" he asked kindly. "Is there anything I might be able to do to comfort you in your grief?"

Éowyn wiped the tears from her cheek and stared into his blue-grey eyes. 

"My cousin, Théodred, has passed away, I have just been to him," she said, her steely expression showing little emotion, though she forced it. Aragorn took her slender form in his arms and stood in silence for a time. 

"What can I do to ease this pain?" he begged her. "It upsets me to see such sorrow in one so young and fair."

Éowyn turned her head up to look at him.

"Might I first give these tidings to Théoden King, he must learn of this sad news; then would you keep me company for tonight?"

Aragorn smiled at her. "If you desire that, my lady, then I shall stay with you for as long as is your wish."

Éowyn smiled weakly and stepped out into the corridor. When she had reached the hall again, she made her way to Théoden.

"Dear uncle," she began, "it will grieve you to learn that Théodred has passed away."

Théoden looked shocked but did not allow himself to express his sadness. He walked slowly to another side door, turning to say one thing.

"I must retire now, I bid thee all good night."

            Aragorn and Éowyn returned to her room and remained there for a time. Although Aragorn tried to ease her pain, Éowyn did not weep at during the course of the evening. 

"My lady, why do you not grieve? You are so strong for one so young."

"I grieve, Lord Aragorn, but it is such that it is silent," she replied, "I have suffered much loss in my life and this is but one more. I am a shieldmaiden of Rohan, I do not weep."

Éowyn laid her head on Aragorn's shoulder as he stroked her golden hair.

"I admire you, my lady," he said. "You bear so many burdens but never do you falter." 

"I do falter, Aragorn, but no one sees me," she said sadly. "It is my faltering that led to Théodred's death." 

"Théodred's death was not your fault, lady, know that; it could not have been prevented by you."

Éowyn sighed, her head slipped into Aragorn's lap, her eyes closing gently. Aragorn bent down and kissed her brow softly. 

"Maer dû, melui híril," (Good night, sweet lady,) he whispered.

Éowyn stirred slightly but did not wake. Aragorn pulled the bed covers over her and sat beside her. Here he stayed until early morning, watching over her as she slept. 

* * * 

            When Éowyn awoke, she found herself staring into the blue-grey eyes of Aragorn. 

"Maer aur, hîr nîn," (Good morning, my lord,) she said sweetly; Aragorn looked pleasantly surprised.

"Maer aur, híril nîn," (Good morning, my lady,) he replied, smiling. 

"You seem surprised to find that I can speak the language of the Elves. A royal lady of Rohan is expected to speak Sindarin. In days of old, we received Elvish guests at the Hall of Meduseld, but after the Dark Lord regained his strength, the Elves began to depart from these lands for the Grey Havens. I feel alone in this world, Théodred is gone, Éomer has left and Théoden slips into Gríma's grasp. I feel myself falling into darkness." Her face saddened. 

"You will never be alone in this world, my lady," he said. "So many people admire and love you." 

Éowyn fell silent for a moment, pondering a thought, which she could not bring herself to speak out loud.

"Is something troubling you, lady?" Aragorn asked, "Have I said something to offend you?"

"No, my lord," she answered, hastily brushing it aside. 

She rose from the bed, walking towards the window; but Aragorn caught her by the wrist, pulling her back. He stared into her deep blue eyes. She turned her head, unable to face him, freeing herself from his grip and moving to the window, staring out at the wide plains of Rohan below. Aragorn followed but stood back, watching her. Éowyn kept praying that he would leave her to her misery. He simply stood there, his eyes fixed on her awaiting a response. She didn't want to turn around and face his blue-grey eyes. Finally she heard him turn and his footsteps fade slowly. She listened for the sound of the door closing behind him and barely caught his last words.

"Estel sílatha anuir i môr, ú-gwanno han, ú-demado han; ae cerich, dannathach." (Hope will shine always in darkness, do not turn from it, do not forget it; if you do, you shall fall.)****

Éowyn collapsed on the floor of her room, and broke into tears. 

"Why," she sobbed. "Why must I suffer so, why must the ones I love suffer so. What have they done to deserve my punishment?"

She thought of Théodred, of her parents, of Éomer and of Théoden. She had watched them either die or suffer needlessly. She was now forced to watch herself suffer, and the one man who could help her, had turned away from her. And she had let him. 

            She rose to her feet, wiping her tear-stained eyes and making her way down the corridor to the main hall. The hall was empty so early in the morning, so Éowyn strolled outside onto the steps. She admired the grassy plains of Rohan, as they caught the morning rays. She felt the breeze lift her golden hair into the wind and make it dance. Suddenly she noticed movement at the gates of Edoras; a rider, bearing the shield of the Rohirrim, had entered the city. As he drew nearer, she could make out that he was from the Third Marshal of the Riddermark, and he was badly wounded. He made his way through the city to the foot of the steps. Éowyn hurried down to meet him.

"What news of my brother," she called out. "How does he?"

"He is well, lady," answered the soldier, "I have news for Théoden King."

"Come inside and rest," she implored, "you are weary and injured."

He expressed his gratitude and followed her up the stone steps and through the doors. 

"Fetch me some warm water and rags," she called to a servant, who bowed quickly and hurried away, returning shortly afterwards with a wooden bowl and white cloths.

"How is my dearest brother," she asked, as she bathed his wound and bound it.

"He is well, lady, but I do not bring good news from him. May I speak with the king?"

"I will go and fetch him," she said, and entered the large doors at the back of the hall, behind the throne.

            Éowyn walked along the hallway to the king's chambers and knocked tentatively on his door. When she heard his voice from inside, she went in. Théoden was awake and dressed when she found him. 

"Uncle, there is a messenger here with news for you from Éomer. He wishes to speak with you."

"I will see him shortly, but I must visit Théodred before his burial," he said softly

"May I join you?" she asked. 

He nodded his head and smiled at his niece; they made their way through another set of doors to where Théodred lay. Éowyn wanted to cry; this had confirmed all her nightmares. She had hoped that she would wake and it would all return to how it was before but she knew that would never happen. A tear rolled down her velvety cheek, she could hear Théoden sob softly in the dim room. She didn't know how to comfort him. Then taking his arm, she led him back out again.

When Théoden and Éowyn reappeared, Legolas, Gimli and Aragorn were also there. Gimli was seated on a stool at one of the tables, Legolas stood beside him. Aragorn was pacing a little. Gríma she did not see, he hid in the shadows of the hall, unmoving and almost invisible if not for his foul, glittering eyes. They all looked up as Théoden entered with Éowyn at his arm. He looked grim Aragorn watched her intently as she led Théoden across the room.

"Westu hál, Théoden!" (Hail, Théoden!) cried the soldier, "I bear tidings from Éomer, Third Marshal of the Riddermark."

"Speak," said Théoden. 

"A large army has been seen ten leagues from here, marching to Edoras. They are Uruk-hai, ten thousand at least, bearing the White Hand. This may be Saruman's last stand against Rohan, but he will not be easily defeated." 

The room had gone silent, everyone looked troubled. Théoden seemed at a loss for words. All were in shock. 

"How soon will they be here?" asked Théoden shakily.

"By nightfall, they are moving fast, and in daylight," said the soldier.

"You must prepare for battle," declared Aragorn. "You must stand and fight."

"I will not risk open war," shouted Théoden. "Let them come."

"Théoden, they come not to destroy Rohan's crops or villages – they come to destroy its people…down to the last child."

Théoden looked troubled. "We shall make for our refuge." He turned to Éowyn, "Alert the people that we must leave for Helm's Deep." Then turning to the messenger, said, "Ride to Éomer. Inform him of our plans." He sighed deeply, "It will end here, for Isengard or Rohan."

He looked at Aragorn, who nodded solemnly. He knew it must be done.

"Fetch my horse," cried Théoden. "We ride for Helm's Deep!" 

* * * 

**A/N:** I hope no one will be complaining about any changes made. It took ages and I'm not undoing them. 


	3. Flight to Dunharrow

**A/N: **I've added new parts to this chapter, too. Revised and edited. 

**Disclaimer:** I get so sick of these. Read the last one. 

* * *

**Chapter 3: Flight to Dunharrow**

            By midday, Edoras lay silent, its inhabitants marching to Helm's Deep. Wormtongue had gone with them also; he had no chance to escape after Théoden had ordered the evacuation of the city. He had been requested to accompany the king along with Háma, Chief of the Guard of Rohan. 

Behind him rode Gimli, mounted on one of the king's horses. Éowyn walked beside him, listening to him speak of his ancestors and the glory of the Dwarf cities of Moria and the Lonely Mountain. She laughed as he told her about dwarf women.

"It's true you don't see many Dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men…" 

At this point, Aragorn, who had been riding behind them, dismounted and appeared at Éowyn's side.

"It's the beards," he whispered.

Éowyn smiled as Gimli continued.

"…and this, in turn, has given rise to the belief that there ARE no Dwarf women. And that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

Éowyn gave a very musical laugh, a true smile breaking on her face, the first in a very long time. Aragorn was captivated by this smile. It was so perfect in every way. 

Suddenly Gimli's horse bolted from Éowyn's grasp and Gimli toppled off. Éowyn ran to help him up, while Aragorn went to catch the horse.

"It's alright, it's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate," he assured everyone.

She laughed again, as did Aragorn.

The afternoon wore on, and the people grew weary as they marched nearer and nearer Helm's Deep. It grew darker, before Théoden called them all to a halt.

"We shall rest here tonight," he declared, "and in the morning we make for the fortress of Helm's Deep."

They made camp inside a rock crevasse where they would be well hidden. The guards took watches throughout the night. 

Aragorn could not sleep. He sat silent, looking up into the night sky. He thought of all that had happened in the past few months. Where were Gandalf and the hobbits? Were they safe and well? What of Frodo and Sam? Were they still alive? Suddenly, he heard footsteps behind him, and instinctively grasped the hilt of his sword.

"My lord." 

He recognised the voice as Éowyn.

"You should be sleeping, my lady," he said, his gaze still focused on the sky.

"I cannot sleep," she replied, her voice as soft as silk. "May I keep you company?"

"Of course, lady, I would be glad of your company." They sat in silence.

"My lord," began Éowyn, timidly. "Do we have any hope of defeating Saruman's army?"

Aragorn did not answer. He thought for a moment. What hope did they have? Would Éomer come in time to help them? Would even that be enough?

"We must never loose faith, my lady," he said.

Éowyn yawned and lay down on the ground. Aragorn settled himself beside her. He slept peacefully that night. 

            Early next morning, they began marching again. Legolas rode out front with the scouts, the king and Háma further back and Aragorn and Éowyn behind them. At about midday, Legolas spotted something on the plains ahead. They were moving fast, faster than Uruk-hai. They were mounted, but it was not horses they rode.

"Warg-riders!" he shouted from the top of the hill. "We're under attack!"

"Riders, prepare to fight!" Théoden cried. He turned to Éowyn. 

"You must lead the people to Helm's Deep." 

"I can fight," she protested.

"No, do this… for me."

Éowyn called to the frightened villagers. "Stay together! We make for Helm's Deep."

She called to Aragorn and pushed something into his hand as he rode off to join the riders.

"Take this, for luck."

Aragorn stared at her before riding to meet the Warg-riders. He looked at the item she had given him. It was a gold chain with a pendant of a gold and sapphire lily. He fastened it around his neck as he went.

A Warg came rushing at him; the orc mounted brandishing a sword. He hacked its neck with his sword and it fell from the Warg's back. He skewed the Warg as he went. Hasufel suddenly collapsed beneath him. An arrow had shot him. Aragorn faced the orc but was caught by the Warg. 

It bounded along, the orc staring ferociously down at him, struggling to hold his grip. Aragorn raised Andúril to strike him but missed catching the Warg's throat. The Warg skidded to a halt and Aragorn was thrown to the cliff's edge. 

The orc was on him, grasping his throat, tearing Éowyn's necklace from it. The necklace fell to the ground. Aragorn felt himself slipping over the cliff. The orc got free in time to watch Aragorn fall down the precipice. 

Legolas pointed an arrow at the orc's head.

"What have you done with my friend?" he demanded, glaring at the orc. "Where is he?"

"He's – dead," coughed the orc, grinning. "He took a little tumble over the cliff." 

"You lie," said Legolas, gripping the orc tightly and throwing him down again. 

He picked up the golden chain and held it. Releasing the orc, as it choked and died, he went with Gimli and Théoden to the cliffs edge. They stared down into the river, unable to see Aragorn anywhere.  Legolas backed away slowly, with Gimli, still staring in disbelief, and followed the King to gather the survivors. They made for Helm's Deep.

            Éowyn and the refugees reached Helm's Deep, such a sight for sore eyes. They made their way in to rest and recover behind the safety of the Deeping Wall. Not long after they had settled, Théoden arrived with what was left of the men who fought. She hurried out to greet them but cannot see Aragorn.

"Where is Lord Aragorn?" she asked Legolas, "Why is he not here?"

Legolas handed her the golden chain. "He fell."

Tears filled her eyes as she thought of him lying dead on the rocks. She turned away quickly and hurried to her chambers. 

* * * 

**A/N:** Ok, there we are. Another chapter revised, and more added to the Warg battle. 


	4. The Battle of Helm's Deep

**A/N:** No changes other than Elvish 

* * * 

**Chapter 4: The Battle of Helm's Deep**

Aragorn opened his eyes and stared up. He could see where he had fallen from and it was now silent. He got up slowly, making his way around the cliff to look for a way up. He found one of the horses that had been left behind and mounted it. Riding slowly along the river's edge, he found himself staring over the plans to Helm's Deep. 

He turned the other direction, spotting a very large black mass slowly moving in the same direction. Saruman's army is coming, he thought. He turned his gaze back to Dunharrow and with all speed set off. Théoden must know. It is time for battle.

He raced along the flat for hours; slowly Helm's Deep became bigger. He reached the gates and entered the Hornburg. Gimli noticed him. 

"Where is he? Where is he? I'm going to kill him!" roared Gimli, as he pushed his way passed refugees.

"It's good to see you too, Gimli," replied Aragorn wittily.

Éowyn had heard the commotion and hurried out to see what it was. When she caught sight of Aragorn, she ran to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck. They held each other, unspeaking.

"Anuir na caned lîn glas," (Ever is thy sight a joy,) he whispered.

"Emel nîn linna cenatel," (My heart sings to see thee,) she said

Éowyn handed the golden chain to him.

"Garo han, han na lîn." (Take this, it is yours.) 

"Celithon ant lîn emel nîn," (I shall treasure your gift in my heart) he replied.

Legolas approached him now.

"Na mae ceni le, mellon nîn," (It is good to see you, my friend) he said.

Aragorn smiled. "Hannon le, Legolas." (Thank you, Legolas) 

"I must speak with the king urgently," Aragorn started again, "Where is he?"

Éowyn stepped forward. "I shall take you to him," and led him up the stairs to the King's Hall.

            Théoden sat with Háma and Gamling, discussing the defence of the Keep, when Aragorn burst through the doors. They all looked up, shocked and amazed.

"Théoden, I have seen Saruman's army on my way here," said Aragorn, "they will be here by nightfall."

"How could he know we have fled here?" asked Théoden.

"He has spies and still holds the Palantír of Isengard," he answered.

"We must gather all those who can fight," suggested Gamling, "we need as many men and boys as we can."

"We cannot fight them just as we are," said Aragorn, "we need more forces."

"From where?" argued Théoden, "they will not make it in time." He turned to Éowyn who was standing near Aragorn. 

"Éowyn, you must gather all the women and children into the caves and defend them there."

Éowyn tried to protest but Théoden looked pleadingly at her. She retreated from the hall.

A horn sounded outside. They looked confused and walked outside. From the wall, shouts came.

"What could it be?" asked Théoden, turning to Aragorn.

Aragorn peered over the wall and ran down to the gates to meet them. The gates opened to reveal Haldir, leading a host of Elven archers.

"Haldir! Mae govannen!" (Haldir! Welcome!) cried Aragorn, "But how?"

"Galadriel watches over you, Elessar," he said, "she sent us to honour the allegiance between Men and Elves once more."

            The Elves processed into the Hornburg and took their positions along the Deeping Wall. Aragorn stood beside Gimli and Legolas. The marching grew louder.

"Well Aragorn, whatever luck you've lived by, let's hope it lasts the night," said Gimli.

"Your friends are with you Aragorn," added Legolas.

"Let's hope they last the night," emphasised Gimli.

The army grew closer; they could see the sea of fearsome Uruk-hai. It had also started to rain.

Aragorn was giving orders to the Elvish archers.

"Ú-dano i faelas a hyn an uben tanatha le faelas!" (Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!) 

"What's happening out there?" demanded Gimli, jumping up and straining to see over the wall.

"Shall I describe it to you?" replied Legolas, "Or would you like me to find you a box?" He grinned. Gimli began to laugh.

All were still, each side awaiting a command to attack. An arrow was accidentally released from the Deeping Wall, hitting an Uruk-hai in the neck and killing it. 

"Dartho," (Hold,) shouted Aragorn. 

This was it. The Uruk-hai were mad. Their leader ordered the charge.

"So it begins," said Théoden quietly.

"Tangado a chadad!" (Prepare to fire!) shouted Aragorn. The Elves drew their arrows.

"Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc a nu ranc," (Their armour is weak at the neck and underneath the arms) cried Legolas.

The Uruk-hai were running towards them now.

"Hado i philinn!" (Release the arrows!) roared Aragorn.

A hail of arrows descended upon the Uruk-hai, several fell in the first strike. More came from behind, carrying ladders.

"Prepare yourself, Gimli," said Legolas from beside him, "they are coming."

Gimli drew out his axes readying himself. Legolas brought out his fighting knives, as did all of the other Elves. Aragorn had his sword drawn as the first of the Uruk-hai swarmed over the walls. Aragorn turned his attention to the causeway in the wall where a group of Uruk-hai had begun to batter it. He ordered the Elven archers to fire on them, but more continued to come. Through a pathway made, an Uruk-hai ran carrying a torch of explosives.

"Legolas, togo hon dad!" (Legolas, bring him down!) shouted Aragorn.

  
Legolas fired a series of arrows at the Uruk-hai, one hitting him in the shoulder. The Uruk-hai stopped. He pulled the arrow out and continued to run towards the causeway.

Aragorn was frantic. He must not reach the wall, he thought. He called to Legolas again.

"Dago hon! Dago hon! Legolas, daro hon!" (Kill him! Kill him! Legolas, stop him!) 

Legolas fired again frantically, shooting him in the leg, but the Uruk kept going. He reached the causeway and threw the torch at it.

The Deeping Wall exploded, blasting both Elves and Men from it. Aragorn charged down to where the Uruk-hai had begun to swarm inside, calling Elvish archers with him and grabbing Gimli who was struggling to get back up. They fought back the oncoming Uruks as they tried to push through.

"Call your men back, Aragorn!" yelled Théoden, "To the Keep!" Aragorn nodded at called to Haldir.

"Haldir, nan barad! (To the Keep!) We must retreat!"

Aragorn carried Gimli away, kicking and struggling the whole way. Haldir followed them, until he was stopped by a small group of Uruks. He killed them easily but one struck him from behind, knocking him down.

"HALDIR!" cried Aragorn, rushing to his friend's side. He seized the ladder of orcs just coming over the walls and threw them down, killing all. He knew he had to leave him here but it hurt him.

            Aragorn made his way to the Keep and helped Théoden's men to bar the doors.

"Sire, we cannot hold them for much longer!" shouted Gamling. Aragorn stepped forward, Gimli at his side.

"How long do you need?"

"As long as you can give me," Théoden said.

"Gimli, come with me," ordered Aragorn. They snuck out of a side door and outside to where the Uruk-hai were barging the gate down. They peered around the corner. Gimli held back a little.

"It's a long way," said Aragorn.

"Toss me," mumbled Gimli.

"What?" asked Aragorn.

"I cannot jump the distance, so you'll have to toss me!"

Aragorn picked him up but before he could throw him, Gimli stopped him.

"Don't tell the Elf."

"Not a word."

He threw Gimli across onto the bridge and followed himself. They began to hack away at the hoards of Uruks who were lined up along the bridge. Their plan did not go as well as they would have liked. They managed to hold them off long enough for Théoden to order their retreat to the Keep, as they broke through the gates.

Legolas threw Aragorn and Gimli a rope and pulled them up onto the wall. They made for the hall.

"What do we do now?" asked Théoden.

"We ride," said Aragorn, "a last charge. For Rohan, for glory. Ride out with me Théoden King, ride out and meet them." 

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together," said Théoden, resting a hand on Aragorn's shoulder. "Sound the horn," he cried, "and fetch my horse!"


	5. Where is Aragorn?

**A/N:** I'm sorry, but this is only a short chapter. There is just no better place to stop. Apologies for the battle scene in the last chapter but I'm not very good with that sort of stuff. I used a couple of lines from the movie and some of the scenes eg. Haldir's death. I promise that the next chapter will be exciting. What will happen when Gríma causes a great deal of discomfort to our lovely Éowyn and Aragorn is not there to save her?

* * * 

**Chapter 5: Where is Aragorn?**

Théoden and Aragorn led the charge out of the Hall, followed by what there was of the Rohirrim, out onto the bridge. The horn sounded a rich call from inside the Hornburg, but another rang out from the top of the slope. Theoden could just made out the figure mounted, poised on the rim of the incline, a large crowd assembled behind him. 

"Éomer!" he cried, "Éomer has come with the Rohirrim!"

Éomer had gathered all of the Rohirrim he could find to assist the king in his battle. They stood, at least two thousand riders, all eager to fight for their king and freedom. In the light of dawn, the charged down the escarpment at the stunned Uruk-hai below them. They hacked their way through the thousands of Uruk-hai.

There was a good deal of bloodshed on both parts. Háma, one of Théoden's captains, fell in battle, struck down by a Warg-rider who was amongst the Uruk-hai, Wild men and orcs.

The battle was brief but very fierce. Both Uruk-hai and riders fell but it was Rohan who rose victorious. When it was all over, Théoden rode to meet his nephew.

"Éomer," he cried, "what a joy it is to see you are well!"

"You also, dear uncle," he responded.

"Come," said Théoden, "we shall celebrate our victory in the great halls, but first we must bury those who died in this battle."

"I shall call the people out of the Glittering Caves and inform Éowyn of our triumph," added Éomer.

            Théoden strolled around the battleground with some of the riders, heaping all of the dead into a large pile. This was then covered in dirt and laden with seed of 'simbelmynë', a flower which grows all year round on the graves of men.

Éowyn had arrived and started immediately to tend the wounded with a handful of women. Her work was very demanding and took her several hours. As soon as she had finished, she hurried off to look for Aragorn. She had not seen him since the battle began and she was worried that he might be hurt or worse, dead. She could not see Legolas or Gimli either. He could not have died, she thought, he is too skilled a warrior. After a thorough search of Helm's Deep and the battlegrounds, she still had not found him. 

What if he had died? 

She did not know. She ran back to the hall, scouring it well, finally tearing off to her room. 

She threw herself down on the bed and wept bitterly.

            Aragorn wandered the Glittering Caves with Legolas and Gimli. They were massive, unlike any they had seen before, shining like gold on every wall, each new turn opening up a whole other maze to explore. Gimli was fascinated by them and his enthusiasm was obvious.

"I have never before seen such miraculous caves, matched only by the Mines of Moria," he exclaimed.

"Yes, that is evident, my friend," chuckled Aragorn, "never have I seen your eyes bulge so."

Legolas laughed; Aragorn smiled cheekily. Gimli scowled at them.

"I fear you do not understand the dwarfish passion for natural formations such as these caves too well."

"We understand it perfectly," said Legolas sarcastically, "we simply find your outward expressions somewhat amusing," he finished. 

He and Aragorn burst into fits of laughter.

"I found yours to be the same whilst we were in Fangorn Forest, Master Elf," retorted Gimli.

Legolas scoffed at this but fell silent. The companions continued through the caves. Gimli watched that he did not provoke the other two; they had hurt his pride enough. Aragorn soon forgot about it, but Legolas was always ready to stir up the dwarf. They wandered through the caves, admiring their beauty, for hours and lost track of time. Realising how long they had been there, they remembered the celebrations in the Hall. Gimli was not easily torn away from the caves.

"May I not stay and explore while we are here?" he begged

Aragorn shook his head. 

"You may come back later to explore them, I will join you in your explorations," said Legolas, "but I ask that you come with me to search Fangorn Forest. I long to learn more about the trees."

Gimli was hesitant but agreed to the Elf's terms.

They set off, back towards the celebrations to join the king in his victory, each wondering how many more they would see. 

The War had just begun.

Meanwhile, Gríma had managed to hide in his chambers for the duration of the battle, emerging now just in time to see Éowyn run sobbing to her room. He edged his way through the crack in her door, approaching his victim as stealthily as a snake, to position himself behind her. He extended a clawed, bony hand from his disgusting black robes, clasping his fingers around her shoulder…

­­* * *

**A/N:** I know that you are all going to want to kill me now but don't, otherwise you'll never find out the rest. Apologies for stopping the story here, the suspense is killing even me but at present I am suffering from a cold and a serious case of writer's block. I PROMISE that the next chapter will be up this weekend. 


	6. Gríma

**A/N:** A fair few changes in this chapter. Elvish, for one, less crying Éowyn for another, I think. 

**Disclaimer:** *Yawn* Updating chapters is hard enough without having to do witty disclaimers all the time. 

* * * 

**Chapter 6: Gríma**

Éowyn had not noticed Gríma. She felt too much pain to realise anything. Aragorn was gone and she would never see his shining face smile at her again. The smile that made her weak in the knees, the smile that she had seen so rarely. Never had she felt such grief before, not for anyone, not even her parents, not even Théodred. She fought back the tears. Even though there was no one there to see her, she refused to let any tears spill from her eyes. Éowyn felt cold all of a sudden, like some unseen evil had just entered the room. 

Someone was there... 

Someone unwanted… 

Someone hated… 

Gríma.

She felt his icy, clawed hand drain all warmth and hope from her as it touched her. She was trapped, like a cornered animal. It ran along her shoulder and traced its way down her spine and around the lining of the dress. 

"Get out, Wormtongue!" she screamed, only managing a whispered response.

"Now, now, Éowyn," he scolded sardonically, "that is now way to speak to the king's most trusted advisor."

"Trusted," she retorted, "that you would have the audacity to think that you are even tolerated by anyone other that the king; and do so only for him is his fragile condition."

Gríma smirked proudly.

"Who made him so weak, Éowyn?" he asked. His face was so close to hers now. "Surely you have guessed by now."

Éowyn felt the rage building up inside her. She was ready to explode. How dare he?

She drew back and cuffed him in the face, knocking him back. She was infuriated. 

Gríma composed himself and glared at her. It was obvious that he was, himself, also incredibly annoyed. Éowyn was paralysed with fear. She tried to run but her feet refused to move. 

Gríma was in front of her again, in two strides, and before she could stop him, had struck her hard across her cheek. His hit was powerful, more so than hers. She was knocked back and fell to the ground. She lay there motionless, pretending that she was unconscious, praying all the while that he would leave her there. 

But he didn't. 

His hands had grabbed her again and were pulling her up. She was thrown onto her bed. Éowyn forced herself to open her eyes, just in time to see the hand rush towards her, delivering another savage blow. 

She winced, but refused to cry out in pain. She wouldn't give him that pleasure. She wouldn't sacrifice the last of her hope. It was all she had left to fight him, to keep her sane, and she wasn't about to give in. 

Gríma was bent over her now, ready to strike.

"Don't struggle, it's useless," he snarled, as she squirmed beneath him. "I promise, it won't hurt, and even if it does, no one will hear you scream."

He edged her bottle-green gown off her shoulders. It was torn across the front from his forcefulness. 

In a last effort, she drew her knee upward to thump him hard in the groin.

He recoiled from her and dropped to his knees, groaning in pain. Éowyn wasted no time. Before he could realise, she had shot to the door, struggling madly to open the lock.

Gríma rose to his feet, making for the door as quickly as he could for all the pain he was in. Just as he reached an arm out to stop her, she had gone through the door. He followed her along the hallway. She would not escape him again.

Éowyn raced down passageway after passageway, searching for safety she would find in only one place. But Gríma was so close behind her. She darted behind a side column as she rounded a corner, hoping that Gríma wouldn't see her.

She listened for the passing footsteps and waited until they had faded. Checking herself quickly, she ran back the way she had come. When she reached an obscure side passage, she hurried down to the room at the end of it. Here was her salvation; but then she remembered, he would not be here.

She burst in though, as it would be a comfort and Gríma would not look here anyway. But when she entered, she was startled to see a familiar face there.

*** * ***

"L-Legolas," she stammered.

Legolas appeared confused but quickly led her inside. The room was comforting to Éowyn as she was seated but Legolas in a large chair by the fire.

"Man prestannen na le, híril nîn?" (What has happened to you, my lady?) demanded Legolas, looking concerned.

Éowyn stared at him, her eyes filling with tears, but she fought them back.

"I did not expect to find anyone here," she said, "I came here for comfort and secrecy."

Legolas looked at her somewhat tattered dress.

"I will be back shortly," he said, "I shall fetch some robes for you to change into," and with that he went through a side door, but returned with more than just robes. 

Aragorn had returned with Legolas. Immediately, when he saw her, he rushed to her side, observing her gown, sitting torn and awkwardly on her shoulders.

Éowyn thought that it was only a dream, until he spoke.

"Who did this to you, Éowyn," he asked. Éowyn could see the fire burning in his normally beautiful blue-grey eyes, "who was it?"

Éowyn could feel the tears well in her eyes again. She lowered her head. She did not want him to see her cry.

Aragorn motioned for Legolas to leave them. He turned and walked through the other door.

Aragorn lifted Éowyn's head gently, wiping the tears from her face.

"Man prestannen?" (What happened?) he asked softly, "Pedo nin." (Tell me) 

Éowyn couldn't hold it back any longer. She buried her head in his shirt and cried uncontrollably. Aragorn didn't know what to do, he simply held her, stroking her hair until she spoke very softly.

"It was Gríma," she said, "h-he hit me." She showed him the mark on her face. "H-he tried t-to-to…" She stopped and continued to cry.

Aragorn held her tighter and kissed her brow. He thought of Gríma. He wanted to murder Gríma for what he had done to Éowyn. 

Éowyn still could believe that Aragorn was alive. Her heart was rejoicing at the fact that she was here with him again. 

"I thought you were dead," she sobbed, " I couldn't find you after the battle."

Aragorn was taken aback but smiled and held her closer.

"Law, híril nîn," (No, my lady) he whispered in her ear. "Im sí." (I am here) 

"I thought I had lost you forever," she whimpered.

Aragorn drew her head up to look at her.

"You will never loose me, Éowyn, know that," he assured her. He kissed her softly on the head. "Nathon anuir go le," (I will always be with you) he whispered.

Éowyn stood there in Aragorn's embrace. She felt safe, nothing could harm her while he was there holding her. All thoughts of Gríma had disappeared from mind for now. She could feel the warmth of his body against her. She could hear his heart beat in time with hers. His slow breathing and his soft Elvish whispers in her ear. She was at peace and relaxed. 

She felt his arms release her. She looked into his face as if to ask 'why?'

"My lord, is something wrong?" she asked.

"It is late," he replied, "you need rest after your ordeal."

"Don't leave me, Aragorn," she said, she could feel the tears coming back.

"Never," he smiled, drawing her in again, "I would not leave you after what you have been through tonight. I would not abandon you."

He led her over to a bed that was positioned near the windowsill. 

"Put on those fresh robes," motioning to the robes Legolas had brought in earlier, turning away and walking into the other room. He soon returned with a bowl of warm water, a handful of leaves and some rags, but somewhat hesitantly, unsure whether she was dressed or not.

She was and seated herself on the edge of the bed. Aragorn examined the bruises on her arms and face, and one gash on her forehead, which she had obtained in her fall. He began to wash it carefully, to avoid hurting her. He gathered some of the leaves and crushed them up in his hands to create a greenish paste. He proceeded to gently rub this into the bruises on her face and arms. Surprisingly, they felt much better and began to heal quite rapidly. He then placed the rest of the paste and leaves into the bowl of warm water.

"This is athelas, or kingsfoil," he said, "it has many healing powers, but they are unfamiliar to all but the Dúnedain, my kin."

Éowyn noticed that it had a particularly strong smell, but one that warmed her and lifted her spirits. Aragorn placed them on a small table set beside the bed.

"This should help you to sleep well tonight." He motioned for her to lie down. 

He walked around to the other side of the bed and lay beside her, one arm around her waist in a protective manner, the other stroking her golden hair.

"Good night, Éowyn," he murmured and kissed her head.

Éowyn sighed and closed her eyes. Her sleep was undisturbed and pleasant, without the memories of Wormtongue. Her greatest comfort was not the athelas, it was the thought that Aragorn was lying next to her and would be there again when she woke in the morning. 

She murmured something in her sleep, something she would not know of or remember, but something that Aragorn would never forget.

"Melon le, Aragorn." (I love you, Aragorn) 

* * * 

**A/N: **Say it with me people, aww. So cute! I love the Aragorn/Éowyn stuff in this chappie. And I say that I'm not the kind that likes fluff. 


	7. Musings

Firstly, this is not a note, just a thank you to all my reviewers; in particular flipperjlw, anfieldgyul, Rosa Cotton, Salysha (thanks to all of you for your advice and support) and of course the crazy ladies and my best buddy KK (you really are a crazy lady); This story is for all of you guys.

**A/N:** In this chapter there are some parts of the book. Don't sue me for it; I am mentioning it now. Other parts come from his notes on the book. I dug up some really good stuff on that. They come from the original plot. Some changes made to Elvish and other. 

**Disclaimer:** I keep forgetting to do this. None of the characters in this story are mine; they are the property of the master himself, J.R.R. Tolkien. I hope you are not turning in your grave after what I have done to your story.

* * * 

**Chapter 7: Musings**

Aragorn lay awake for sometime after those words had been uttered. Did she realise what she had said? Was it a conscious thought or was she just mumbling in her sleep? Why would she love him, she was so fair and young? Either way, it had been said, and try as he might, Aragorn could not stop pondering it. 

He considered what she been through, and everything that had happened over the past few days. He thought of what Wormtongue had done to her tonight and determined that it was that which must have been the cause for her to say that. She was so troubled by it, poor girl; after all she was still only a child, seventeen, parents dead, cousin dead, having to care for her uncle and fight off Wormtongue. 

He must not make her uncomfortable or give her the wrong impression. He could tell that her life had been full of trials, which she still carried with her. He could see it in her eyes, those deep blue eyes…why was he thinking like this? How was she able to affect him in such a way? 

Aragorn got up from beside Éowyn and strolled over to the window. He gazed up at the stars shining in the night sky, the beautiful patterns of the clouds and the different shades of moon. It had always fascinated him; he had travelled to so many places, seen so many things that others couldn't begin to conceive; and yet there was so much out there, so near, yet so far away.

He looked over at Éowyn. Why would anyone want to harm her? She was so innocent, so pure, so fair. She was also strong, a shieldmaiden of Rohan, skilled as any of the Rohirrim. But then there was the playful side, the joking side of her, rarely seen but any and one he had just seen. It wasn't child-like, more happy and cheerful. Grief had overcome her at such a young age that she had all but lost her childhood. Having to assume command of a kingdom under the rule of a weak king and a corrupt advisor, she had proven herself worthy of the highest praise. 

She had grown up beside soldiers, no life for a young girl. She seemed, as he first saw her, stern as steel, cold as frost, but fair as any flower. Her sorrow was her greatest weakness, it had made her strong but it had also taken its toll. The pain of it was so overwhelming at times, he had seen that, but she did not wish it to be noticed. She dealt with it alone, she did not want sympathy, nor did she wish for condolences. What she longed for was someone who would help her to bear it. Aragorn believed that she considered him to be that person. He had offered support for her before, with Théodred's death, now with this attack by Wormtongue. 

Aragorn sat down in a chair next to the window. He continued his musings, every now and then, glancing over at Éowyn as she slept soundly. After a while, he began to feel tired. He closed his eyes. Scenes from the battle flashed before his eyes. Scenes he would rather forget. Both Elves and Men were falling around him all over again. He didn't want to remember. The expression on Haldir's face as he plummeted to the ground, lying beside those he had gathered to fight with him. He remembered his last words, uttered in his dying breath:

"Elessar, hiraethim, ú-dagon hyn." (Elessar, I am sorry, I did not defeat them)

"Ú-hiraetho, Haldir. Nach curua ndagor, maethannenich maer." (Do not apologise, Haldir. You are a mightly warrior, you fought well) 

"Mae le anírion, Estel. Namárië." (I wish you luck, Estel. Farewell)

"An govam abdollen, mellon nîn." (Until we meet again, my friend)

Aragorn could see his eyes close. He could see his face as they carried him away after the battle to be buried elsewhere. He deserved that, the captain of the Lothlórien Elves, Aragorn's dear friend. That face would haunt him forever. He would have to relive that fateful moment in his dreams.

Again, he would cry out to his dear friend to retreat, he would see him nod his head and turn to fight a small band of orcs. Again he would watch the orcs attack him, one striking him from behind. Again he would see him fall into the mud beneath his feet, fall beside his archers, so many innocent men and elves.

Aragorn's eyes snapped open again. He stared into the darkness of the room. Two bright eyes were staring back at him from his position. 

"My lord? Aragorn, is something wrong?" came the sweet sound of Éowyn's voice. The moon came out from behind the clouds and shone through the window onto her pale face.

"It is nothing, lady, Sleep now," he said. 

Éowyn lay back and put her head on the pillow but did not close her eyes. She continued to watch Aragorn as he sat silent in his chair. She watched him for some time without him noticing her, at last, though, she fell asleep. Aragorn was asleep shortly after her, his dreams haunted by that fateful night.

* * * 

            Aragorn woke the next morning from his chair. Éowyn was standing silently by the windowsill, staring out at the clear morning. The storm had gone from the night before, leaving a battlefield scattered with the remains of their foe. Her face was expressionless as she stared out of the window but Aragorn could just catch a hint of sorrow in her eye.

"Who did you mourn for, Aragorn? Last night, what friend did you lose to this?"

Aragorn got up slowly from his chair and walked over to join her. 

"He was an elf; Haldir, Captain of the Lórien Elves. Those archers who fought with us, sent by Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood. He was a fine warrior and a very dear friend of mine."

"I am sorry," replied Éowyn, softly, "did you see him fall?"

"It haunts my dreams, I will never forget."

He turned away from the window sharply and stared down at the ground. Éowyn wanted to comfort him, but she thought it best to leave him. She knew how she'd feel if it was her. Aragorn moved towards the door, slowly opening it and setting off to the main hall for breakfast. She followed but some way behind, watching him intently. 

When they reached the hall, it was already bustling with people. At the back of the hall was Théoden, ordering for things to be organised for the journey back to Edoras. He was eager to get back and observe the damage caused by the Uruk-hai since they had left. They would all be returning home soon and were all pleased to be packing up and preparing for their departure. They had been through quite a bit in only one day of being there. All were tired and longed to return to their homes. 

Éowyn was readying herself also. She had gathered what few possessions she had brought with her and packed them onto her horse, Windfola. She was glad to be leaving at last, although their time there had been incredibly brief. She didn't want Aragorn to be so out of sorts. Getting away from this place would be good for him. It would take his mind of his friend, hopefully. 

Théoden caught sight of the two and hurried over enthusiastically; ready to inform them of his plans, choosing to ignore the solemn looks of both Aragorn and Éowyn.

"We shall leave as soon as we have all breakfasted," he declared, "I long to return to my hall at Edoras."

"As do I, uncle," she said quietly, glancing quickly at Aragorn, who still wore a vague expression on his face and a concerned look in his eyes.

"Aragorn, I trust you will be pleased to return to Edoras and to forget the events that occurred here?" questioned Théoden.

Aragorn snapped back to reality. "Yes, Théoden," he said, "I do wish to forget the events of last night, but that will, I fear, never happen."

"I am sorry for that, my friend," answered Théoden, with a sad tone.

Both Aragorn and Éowyn ate with little conversation to anyone. Others were talking hurriedly around them about the trip back. Théoden was having a conversation with his chief guard about the situation of orcs in the region, as he didn't want to face another attack as they had on their way there. The chief had replied that there was no word from any scouts as to danger in the area and he was confident that all would be well. In a last flurry, everyone checked that they had everything ready for the ride home.

They left in a large mass, moving slowly southwest, to Edoras. They met no trouble over the two days; it was a peaceful journey. They took their time, as there was now no rush. On the second day, late in the afternoon, they arrived at Edoras. It had not been ransacked by the Uruk-hai, thankfully, and everything was in fine condition. They were welcomed by a small handful of scouts who had ridden a day ahead of the party. 

"My, it is good to be home," said Théoden, as he rode through the city and up to the Golden Hall. 

* * * 

**A/N:** Yeah, yeah, I know. Boring, and no real changes. Maybe a few. 


	8. Return to Edoras

**A/N:** One change. Not really important.  

* * * 

**Chapter 8: Return to Edoras**

Éowyn rode up with Aragorn, Théoden and Éomer to Meduseld where a warm welcome awaited them. Éowyn had succeeded in avoiding Gríma for the entirety of the trip, however, back in Edoras, it was harder to escape his ever-watchful eye. 

She would not risk being in the situation that she had experienced before. She did not wish to remain in the Great Hall without a close friend to protect her, but they needn't know the reason. Her only sanctuary from this foul creature, though, was on the plains of Rohan, riding Windfola. When she had unpacked and was settled back in her room, she set off to the stables. As she made her way down the stone steps of Meduseld, she happened upon Aragorn.

"What brings you out here, my lady?" he questioned her, "are you not tired from your journey?"

"I am not," she replied, defiantly, "I simply wished to feel the wind through my hair again and ride through the plains of Rohan."

Aragorn looked pleasantly surprised and pressed her further.

"Would you care for some company? I too would like to see Rohan at its best," he asked.

"I would not be able to stop you, would I, my lord," she smiled, a cheeky glint in her eye.

Aragorn bowed a little and offered an arm, which she took, almost tentatively, but smiling still. They set off again to the stables.

            Éowyn conversed with Aragorn as they walked. He spoke of his travels through Middle Earth and all of the sights he had seen. He told also of the White City, of which he seldom spoke, Minas Tirith, last hope and fortress of Gondor. 

He would sit as king there, one day, when he chose to show himself at its gates. He did not wish to think much about it. His mind was fixed on the hardships ahead. 

When they reached the stables, Éowyn went immediately to Windfola. She stroked his muzzle and he playfully nipped her hand. Aragorn decided to ride Brego, the horse once owned by Théodred. He had not been ridden by any since Théodred's death and it was apparent that he had grown restless and wild. 

Aragorn whispered words, both of Rohirric and of Elvish, into the horse's ear. They were unheard by Éowyn. Both came out of the stables, mounted, with their horses saddled and ready to go. They walked their horses through the city and out of the city walls.

As soon as they had left them, Windfola broke into a gallop, at Éowyn's command, and raced along the flat. Aragorn followed but struggled to catch her as she and Windfola galloped across the plains. 

He was impressed with Éowyn's ability to control Windfola and remain calm at nearly dangerous speeds. She slowed now, to a canter and turned Windfola toward himself and Brego.

"That was impressive," exclaimed Aragorn, "where did you learn to ride like that?"

Éowyn's expression faded. 

"My father taught me, when I was very young," she said, solemnly, "he died when I was seven, killed by orcs in battle. My mother was so upset, and she passed away shortly after. That was when I came here with Éomer."

"I am sorry," he said, quietly.

"It was a long time ago," replied Éowyn, "do not worry about it." 

"Come, let's keep riding, see if you can catch me," she teased, her face lightening, as she and Windfola flew past Aragorn and Brego, startling them. 

They galloped across the hills and through the plains until late into the day; they decided to return to Edoras.

Éowyn was silent for the journey, her mind was thinking of her father, and her mother, and she didn't have the distraction of riding to pull her away from it. Aragorn was worried that he had upset her. 

"I am afraid that I have upset you, lady," he said quietly, trying to make eye contact with her.

"No, my lord," she replied, still looking down, "I am not affected by the mention of my parents, it was long ago." 

She forced a bright smile, but it didn't fool Aragorn. His time with the Elves had given him the ability to see past that. They reached the gates of the city, shortly before evening fell, as the sun set in the west.

They returned to the stables to feed and water the horses after their long ride, and proceeded to the Golden Hall. Éowyn was tired and so went to lie down for a while. Aragorn sat at one of the tables set near the walls of the hall.

Théoden was seated on his throne, speaking in a low voice to Éomer and another of the Rohirrim captains. Legolas entered and immediately walked over to his friend and sat.

"Where is Gimli?" asked Aragorn.

"He seems to have gone off somewhere," said Legolas, "perhaps with one of the women here," he added with a sly smile.

Aragorn laughed, "I can just imagine," he said.

He glanced around the room quickly to see if Éowyn had joined them; but she hadn't. However, a messenger hurried through the doors and straight to the king, muttering something to him. Théoden stood swiftly and nodded.

"Aragorn," he called out, "a guest has arrived and he wishes to speak with both you and I on a very important issue."

"Who is this visitor?" asked Aragorn, looking puzzled.

"He does not with to reveal his name, however he has proved that he is a friend of these lands when he addressed the guard in Rohirric. I have allowed him entry, as any who know our native tongue are considered trustworthy." 

Aragorn nodded his head in agreement.

"That has always been so, my lord."

Suddenly, a knock came at the doors of Meduseld. They echoed off the walls of the hall.

Slowly, they opened the doors…

* * * 

**A/N:** Ok, slight change. Éowyn's age when her father died. I looked it up in the Appendices. 


	9. Messages

**A/N: **Ok, some of this chapter was updated. A few little facts corrected. 

**Disclaimer:** Ok, ok, I don't own the characters from Lord of the Rings (much as I would love to have at least Aragorn); they are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. And yes, I have used some of his lines from the book flinches but don't hurt me for it.

**Chapter 9: Messages**

An old man, dressed in robes of splendid white, and carrying a long white staff, entered and stood before the assemblage. He was a wizard, and an old friend, known to the people of Rohan as Greyhame or Láthspell, so named by Wormtongue. Both Théoden and Aragorn were surprised to see him.

"Gandalf," cried Théoden, "what brings you to these parts?"

"Bad news, unfortunately," he said, approaching them at a fast pace.

"I have received word that the armies of the Lidless Eye are gathering to Mordor. Sauron is planning an attack and it will be Minas Tirith who suffers. I have been to Denethor and he implores you to come and aid them. If we fight all as one, we stand a better chance. The ring bearer is preparing to leave and begin his journey to Mount Doom. We must draw the Eye's attention away from him if we are to stand a chance. Sauron will not expect your forces to join in time if you leave now. 

I have sent envoys to the Elves of Rivendell, Lothlórien and Mirkwood to send what forces they still have in Middle Earth, and other smaller kingdoms nearby. Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth has already agreed to join us with his knights and we are expecting Duinhir and his sons to bring forces also, with Hirluin the Fair from Pinnath Gelin, and Dervorin of Ringló Vale to join with the soldiers of the White Tree. 

We now beg of Rohan, who can offer us more than any, to aid us in our fight. If you do not, you shall stand, alone, after we have perished. Without your help, Gondor shall fall and whom then will you turn to for protection. Long have the men of Gondor and Rohan fought side by side and I now show you that token again." 

Gandalf held in his hands, an arrow, blood red, the symbol of war against Gondor. 

The Red Arrow. 

"Would I present this to you if this threat were not real?" he asked.

Théoden was speechless, the fear in his eyes and face were clear to all those who stood in the room. He was obviously taken aback by this news. The thought that the Dark Lord had gathered his forces to Mordor to launch the start of a War for his ring of power was overwhelming. He would not allow them to survive this unless they joined together as one to defeat him forever. But could they even do that? Would anyone be left alive? 

The king sat in thought for a time. Gandalf watched him intently. Finally, he spoke:

"I will join with Gondor, I will call for all forces throughout my kingdom to return to Edoras. We shall gather here, and set out in three days. Those who cannot make it in that time shall meet us in Minas Tirith as soon as they can."

"Then this is your decision?" inquired Gandalf.

"Yes," replied Théoden, firmly. "Yes, this is my choice."

Aragorn was troubled also. He knew it was time. He must reveal himself to Sauron. He had gathered a palantír from the ruins at Orthanc but had kept it hidden, not daring to look into it. Now, it was time, though. He would face Sauron, not as a mere ranger, but as High King of Gondor. As Elessar.

Another knock came at the door before he could act upon this thought. The doors opened again to reveal three young men dressed in traveller's attire. One of the men stepped forward.

"I am Halbarad Dúnedain, Ranger of the North. We seek one Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and we heard he was in Rohan, in the realm of Théoden King."

"You have found him!" cried Aragorn as he ran forward to greet him. "Halbarad! Of all the joys this is the least expected! And Elladan and Elrohir! My brothers, I am overjoyed to see you also!"

"We came when we received your message. The Lady Galadriel of the Golden Wood of Lothlórien and Lord Elrond of Imladris sent us with messages of guidance for you, as they sensed that you were in need."

"True, I did not ask it of them, but I wished it," replied Aragorn.

Elladan stepped forward, now, "Lord Elrond sends this message to you: 'The days are short. If thou art in haste, remember the Paths of the Dead. Remember the words of the seer.' He also sends this for you." Elladan held out a bright sword for Aragorn to take.

"Narsil, the sword that was broken has now been reforged," he gasped, staring in wonder at it. "Now, Andúril, the Flame of the West." 

Elrohir now approached him.

"The Lady Galadriel bid me tell you this: 'Elfstone, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone, in the south under snow a green stone thou shalt see. Look well, Elfstone! In the shadow of the dark throne then the hour is at hand that long hath awaited thee.' I cannot tell you what it means, she told me you would know that."

"I cannot say that I do, as yet," said Aragorn, looking confused and a little frustrated at this news, "I shall retire now, to ponder this. There are some things that I must do." He hurried out of the hall and straight to his room. 

It was time for him to act. This new message meant that there was little time to waste, things must be done or they may never be. He rummaged around for the palantír, now was the time. He found it in the fabric satchel he had placed it in and sat on the bed, gazing into the swirling blackness. Suddenly, a great eye, wreathed in flame appeared in the centre. Aragorn could hear a voice speaking from this.

"Who are you?"

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn; heir of Isildur and rightful King of Gondor. I know who you are, Sauron, Lord of Mordor."

"Isildur's heir!" was the hoarse reply, "no, it can't be! How is it that I do not know of you?"

"I was raised by Lord Elrond in Rivendell. Estel, I was named after my mother left me there to be raised in safety, for that is what I am. I am the last hope of men, and I will defeat you, Sauron." He held up the sword, Narsil, for him to see. A hoarse cry could be heard by Aragorn. 

"No, how is this! The sword that was broken is reforged! It cannot be!"

Aragorn felt a sharp pain shoot through his body, like knives were stabbing him. He drew away from the palantír and placed it hurriedly back into the pouch. The pains ceased and Aragorn sat silent, in thought. Sauron knew he was there now. Perhaps this would be a blessing rather than a hindrance. 

He did not sound as if he had expected that answer. He was caught off guard. Isildur's heir had returned to claim his crown. The shards of Narsil had been reforged. The war had begun and Aragorn could not be stopped. Sauron knew his time might soon be up. He would strike hard. Aragorn knew this. This new information was quite a blow to him. Aragorn knew what he had to do. 

The time was short, as Elrond had said, and he must travel the Paths of the Dead. But the journey was perilous, would he have any company? Would they dare to go with him? This was the moment of truth. If the prophecy were true, he would survive. 

But what if it wasn't. What if he didn't succeed? He would be responsible for the lives of the men and he knew that Gondor would fall without their help. 

He had to risk it. 


	10. Despair

**A/N:** You will notice the lines from the book in this section, but most have been altered slightly or added to, as they are set under different circumstances. I know this chapter is short, and maybe not really good, but it went to long with the next chapter and this is all relevant for future chapters. They will be better, don't stop reading it because of this one!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters.

**Chapter 10: Despair**

Éowyn lay flat on her bed. She was exhausted from the events of the last six days. She wanted to rest but she couldn't. She wanted to ease Aragorn of his pain but she couldn't do that either. She didn't wish to return to the main hall but knew that her presence was required there. She wandered down again and saw that three guests had arrived. Two of them she did not know, one she did.

"Gandalf!" she cried, running to the old man and embracing him.

"It is wonderful to see you, Éowyn," he chuckled, "you are well, I trust?"

"Yes, quite," she answered smiling, "how do you come to be here, dear Mithrandir?"

"Unfortunately, it is not good," he replied solemnly, "I have spoken with your uncle about departing soon."

"To where?" inquired Éowyn, a note of panic in her voice.

Théoden stepped forward, "I must go to Minas Tirith, to partake in the war."

Éowyn stepped back in alarm, recovering herself quickly however, and stared at her uncle in shock.

"When will you leave?" she asked, blankly.

"Within three days time," he said, "as soon as all forces can be assembled."

Éowyn stared at the ground, her mouth open slightly. She didn't dare ask whether she could go with him or not. She knew what his answer would be. 

"Aragorn shall leave tomorrow morn," added Gandalf, "he also plans to go to Minas Tirith but by a different route."

"Aragorn!" exclaimed Éowyn.

"Yes," Gandalf said, "he has agreed to travel the Paths of the Dead, advised by Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

"The Paths of the Dead!"

Éowyn knew of the Paths of the Dead. No one had returned from them alive. Creatures lived there, creatures no one had lived to tell of but were nonetheless known and feared. No one had emerged from the Paths of the Dead since Isildur himself. No one dared to go near, not those of Gondor, nor those of Rohan. There was only one place that they feared more, and that place was Mordor.

How could Aragorn think of going there? He knew he might never come out. However, it was said that one would come, in a time of great darkness; one that would pass through the Paths of the Dead and emerge with the army of the Dead to rid Middle Earth of the evils created by Mordor. It did not say when this person would come, nor did it say more of the prophecy. What made Aragorn think that it was him? What could make him risk his life? If he took an army with him to the Paths of the Dead, and they did not return, then all hope of defeating Mordor would be lost.

"My lady, I fear that you have taken this news with some difficulty. You appear distressed and somewhat out of sorts," said Gandalf, softly.

"I am sorry, Gandalf," she replied, weakly, "I think it would be best for me to retire to my chambers. I am still weary from my journey."

"Of course, Éowyn."

Éowyn curtsied politely and slowly walked across the hall and through the door to the passageway. They watched in silence as she left.

            Éowyn hurried along the corridor, almost running. She wanted to get away from all of this. She wanted to stop him from going to his death. But she knew his stubborn nature; he would not change his mind once he was decided. 

She could feel the tears well at the thought that Aragorn was going to leave her forever. He would not return to Rohan, she knew that, and she would not leave. She fought them back. 

She must not show any weakness at this time. It would only make her pain worse.

            As she blindly ran straight along the hallway, she bumped into something, or someone. Two large hands grabbed her, holding her back, and blocked her path. 

She turned her face upward to see the owner's face. She could make out Aragorn's features through her blurred vision. She turned her head down again and pushed past him roughly as she continued to her room. 

He didn't try to stop her as she ran past him; he only stared after her. He had never seen her so upset before; he wasn't sure whether it was anger, distress or something more. 

He had seen no tears in her eyes, but he felt that her heart was crying. 

She was trying to fight it; he could see that, to show herself that she need not cry for any pains. 

Aragorn followed her, a fair way behind. 

**A/N:** Ok, no changes to it. And still really short. Sorry. I'll add to it, when I have time. 


	11. A Confrontation

**Disclaimer:** Ok, ok, so I borrowed a few lines from the book. If I didn't it wouldn't make sense. I haven't used that many anyway and most have been altered. At least I'm admitting to it. And no I don't own any of these characters, but as soon as Tolkien decides that he doesn't want them in the Afterlife, I've got dibs on Aragorn and, if I can manage, Éowyn. This chapter is up there with the best of my work, I know that doesn't say much, but any way. Wait for the later chapters, especially those involving Éowyn and a certain bad guy (no I don't mean Gríma) along with a cute little hobbit. 

**A/N: **Thank you to all of my reviewers. In particular, my faithful five, Rosa Cotton; flipperjlw; anfieldgyul, love your story and thanks for your comments; Salysha, hope you like this new part; and of course, my best friend KK, on behalf of the crazy ladies (get moving on that next chapter, I want to read it). It means a lot so thanks again. 

Updated Elvish, and some story, I think…

**Chapter 11: A Confrontation**

Éowyn reached her room and flung the door open, slamming it behind her. Tears stung her eyes, but she wiped them away forcefully. She was angry with Aragorn. She wanted to be left in peace to brew over. This would not last for long, as a tapping soon came at her door. She rose from her bed and stood up.

"Who calls?" she demanded, fiercely. A reply came almost immediately.

"It is Aragorn, my lady," he called, "may I come in?"

Éowyn was silent; but the door opened slowly and Aragorn stepped inside.

"My apologies for disturbing you, lady," he said courteously, "but I fear that you are angry with me."

"I am, that is true," she said, heatedly, glaring at him. He was able to see the dampness of her eyes and the redness where she had wiped the tears away.

"I have heard that you intend to travel the Paths of the Dead," she added.

Aragorn fell silent for a minute.

"Well," she pressed, "is it true!"

"I am afraid to say that it is. I am in need of haste at this time, and I must leave tomorrow," he said.

"But it is madness!" she cried, "You will find nothing but death on that road. Why not wait for the Rohirrim to be gathered here and leave with Éomer and Théoden in three days time?"

"I must leave tomorrow," he said, firmly, "I cannot waste any time with this. The forces of Mordor are gathering and they will strike Minas Tirith soon. If I do not go, then all hope will be lost and the world of Men will fall into darkness."

"If you do not return from the Paths of the Dead, then the world of Men will fall, because they have lost such hope as you bring with your army, she said, "Are you prepared to risk the lives of your men with the thought that you may not come out?"

"These men follow of their own will," he replied, "it is their choice to do so."

"These men follow you because they love you, Aragorn, they have faith in you, they are prepared to fight with you and die for you and for what you believe is right," she said, "as am I," she added, quietly.

"Lady, I do not wish for any to be led into danger because of me, if I must, I will travel the Paths of the Dead alone. I am not afraid."

"Which is why I am," she cried, "Aragorn, let me go with you; if you must take this journey, I wish to ride beside you."

"I would not wish that you be put in such danger. I love you as your people love you; but your duty is with them, not with me."

Éowyn was silent with these words. 

"I am the shieldmaiden of Rohan, and of the House of Eorl. I ask you then, if you do love me, why do you prevent me from spending my life as I will?" she demanded.

"Éowyn, I beg of you, stay here for your safety," he implored, "and it is not my choice to make. Théoden and Éomer would be inconsolable if you were injured and I would not forgive myself for it."

"I do not fear either pain or death," she said, "and as you have observed, I can ride and wield a blade as well as any."

"What do you fear, lady?" he asked.

"A cage," she said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of glory and honour are gone."

"You are not restrained from being free, but there are people who care deeply about you. Yet you counselled me not to take the road I have chosen, because it is perilous?" he asked her.

"As one may counsel another, yet I do not bid you flee from peril, but ride to battle and fight valiantly. I would not see you die for something that matters little, while I am compelled to remain and watch as you leave me forever."

"You are mistaken, Éowyn," he said. "It is important that I take this path, it is written that Isildur's heir, in his time of need, will pass through the Paths of the Dead and emerge with the army of the Dead to smite the foes of Mordor."

"How can you be certain that this is your journey, how can you be sure that you are not casting your life away needlessly?" she asked.

"I have received a message from Lord Elrond to remind me of this prophecy. He has been informed by the Lady Galadriel that this is my path, and that I must do this for my people, just as you must remain here for yours."

"I beg you, Aragorn, to let me ride with you," she demanded, "or I will not remain to see your victory. You have declared that you love me, yet you ask that I sit and watch as my love rides to his death. You claim that I have no bars to restrain me and I am as free as any, yet you deny me my right to such freedom."

"I do not deny you your freedom, lady," he said, "it is not my choice to make, whether or not you come with me to the Paths of the Dead. You must ask Théoden or your brother to let you travel with me."

"You know as well as I, what their answer will be," she snapped, "you heard the conversation before the Warg-riders attack. Am I always to be left behind and forgotten?" A tear rolled down her pale cheek.

"You will never be forgotten," he said, softly, wiping the tear from her face. "You are the White Lady of Rohan, Éowyn, you are their shieldmaiden. The time is near when you will put your skills to use, and it will be just as brave and require as much courage as any soldier's work; but it shall not be beside me in battle."

"Why, why must it be so?" she sobbed.

"It is not for a lady to fight alongside men on the field of battle. There are other duties to be fulfilled."

At these words, Éowyn turned sharply away.

"I bid you leave now, Aragorn," she said coldly, "I do not wish for your comfort nor your company."

Aragorn made his way towards the door, slowly, as if hoping that she would ask him to stop. When he reached it, he faced her again, but her back was still turned on him as she stared out at the evening sky.

"Never forget what I have said, estel ú-awartha le. Ú-anuir demado peth nîn." (Hope will not abandon thee. Never forget my words) 

And with that, he left the room. 

**A/N:** Don't ask me why, but every time I read this I cack myself. It's just so funny. They're both so bloody stubborn. I've begun work on a full parody version of my story. Watch out! 


	12. Namárië

**A/N:** I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's the lead up to the best one of all. Warning: Contains spoilers, do not read unless you have read The Lord of the Rings. 

Updated Elvish, and maybe a few other things. 

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters; they are the wonderful work of J.R.R. Tolkien, the master himself. 

**Chapter 12: Namárië **

Éowyn caught these last words, and as soon as he had closed the door behind him, tears began to fall from her beautiful blue eyes. She knew that he would not return to her, even if he did make it through the Paths of the Dead. He had denied his love for her silently and veiled. 

When he arrived at Edoras, she had allowed herself to hope in such a way as she had never hoped before. It was this new hope that had revived her and brought her back into the sunlight from the shadows, which had concealed her. She became almost a new person because of him. 

But now, she had returned to her stern and icy self, such as it was before him. Such as she was with Gríma. She never wanted to go back to that again, but this conversation had turned her from all hope and into despair. She sat down on her bed, buried her face into the soft pillow and cried herself to sleep. Something she had not done since the times of Gríma's evil. 

The darkness had returned.

The next morning, Aragorn prepared to leave for the Paths of the Dead. With him were to go Legolas, Gimli, Elrohir and Elladan, and their company of Dúnedain. They all made their way to the main hall where Théoden, Éomer and Éowyn sat at the table. They joined them to eat and sat discussing their journey. Éowyn spoke little to anyone and glanced at Aragorn every so often during the course of the meal. Aragorn sat in silence, occasionally conversing with Elladan and Elrohir. 

Legolas noticed his discomfort and Éowyn's also. He guessed that their discussion had not gone well the night before. Breakfast ended and the company went away to their rooms to pack up the last of their possessions. Éowyn, too, went to her chambers. Aragorn's eyes followed her as she left. She did not return to the hall again. 

When the party were ready, they assembled themselves outside and mounted their horses. Aragorn now came outside and down the steps of the Golden Hall to where his horse, Roheryn, stood waiting with the other riders. He was just about to leave when he caught sight of Éowyn descending the steps from the great doors. 

She was dressed as a rider, in a cream chemise with a brown leather chest plate fastened over the top. A long sword hung from her waist. She bore with her in one hand, a cup, from which she took a sip and then proceeded to offer it to each man, wishing him a good journey. She offered the cup to Legolas to drink.

"An govam abdollen, híril nîn," (Until we next meet, my lady) he said. 

"Maer aníra, Legolas," (Good luck, Legolas) she replied. "Merin ethelithach tirnen o gûr" (May you return safe from death) 

She embraced the elf warmly and kissed his cheek. She offered the cup, now to Gimli.

"Fare you well, my friend," she said, "I hope that we may talk of happy times again."

"Goodbye, fair Éowyn," he answered, "I wish you and your people good fortune in the time ahead."

She smiled and bent down to kiss his forehead. Gimli blushed furiously.

At last she came to Aragorn and held out the cup to him to drink from.

"Namárië, Éowyn, Híril o Rohan," (Farewell, Éowyn, Lady of Rohan) he said, taking the cup and sipping. "I drink to you and to the House of Eorl. May it see you safe and well until my return. Tell your brother, I hope to see him on the field of battle."

Éowyn wept before him, but none except Legolas or Gimli observed this. In one so stern and proud, it seemed more grievous. 

"Aragorn, wilt thou go?" she sobbed as she lifted her head to look into his blue-grey eyes.

"Yes, I must," he replied.

"Then, will you let me ride with your party, as I asked before?"

"I cannot grant that without the approval of the king and your brother. I must leave you now. Farewell." He mounted Roheryn and led the band out of Edoras.

Aragorn turned back as he rode away. She stood now, atop the steps of Meduseld, leaning on the hilt of her sword. She was as still as a stone figure except for her golden hair, which billowed in the wind. Her face was stern as steel, as it had been when he had first seen her. Something had left her. Hope had left her heart. She had returned to despair. None but Legolas and Gimli saw the pain which he bore as he rode away, leaving the one person he loved behind.

            Éowyn watched, also, as Aragorn and his party rode off to the Paths of the Dead. She felt no pain anymore, nor anger or sorrow. There was no emotion to express the feelings inside of her. She stared impassively as the horses and their riders became smaller and faded into the distance. 

Her path was set before her, different to the one that Aragorn had to take. Her course was clear now. Her duty. To her people. No tears fell from her eyes now; no pain was felt, as he grew further away from her. She turned to go back inside, but before she did, she turned back to stare at the horizon, watching their steady movement and whispered something to the wind which none heard. 

"Namárië, meleth nîn." (Farewell, my love)

As if in reply, a whispered wind came.

"Namárië." (Farewell) 

**A/N:** Don't you just love this ending; it's just so cute. Aww :)


	13. The War Begins

**A/N:** Ok guys, now we get to the really good stuff. Those who have read the Lord of the Rings will know what this is about. I promise, you won't be disappointed. Gandalf tells them of the old words of Glorfindel in the battle against the Witch-King of Angmar: "Far off yet is his doom, and not by the hand of man shall he fall." This chapter and the following chapter are the stories of Gandalf and Merry, with the Pippin and an occasional mention of Frodo and Sam during the lead up to the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Éowyn has little part in this chapter but most will know why. 

I'm so sorry, I didn't realise that I had actually neglected to put in the part with Éowyn at the very end. It's been missing a fair bit of the chapter. I knew this would happen again. But that's what revisions show you, I guess. Good thing I picked it up. So here it is. 

Chapter 13: The War Begins 

            Gandalf did not stay long at Edoras after Aragorn's departure.

"I must return to Minas Tirith to inform Denethor of your agreement to assist in the battle," he said, next morning at breakfast.

"Why so soon?" inquired Éowyn, sadly.

"I am afraid that the situation there worsens day by day. I have news that the Witch-King of Angmar is wreaking havoc in Osgiliath and now turns his attentions to Minas Tirith. I will send one of the hobbits here within a day to give instructions as to the battle plans and inform you of the situation. A young lad by the name of Meriadoc Brandybuck." 

That afternoon, Gandalf took his leave of the House of Eorl. He mounted Shadowfax, a white stallion and a gift from Théoden, and rode fast as the wind, to Minas Tirith. They watched as both white horse and White Rider disappeared into the gleaming sunset.

            Théoden, too, left with Éomer for Dunharrow to meet the Rohirrim who had gathered there. He had received messages from each captain as to how soon they would arrive there. The force of Rohirric riders steadily grew to over six thousand riders and soldiers, all prepared to fight, for glory, against the armies of the Lidless Eye. 

Éowyn bid them a safe journey and a quick return to her. One of Théoden's captains, named Elfhelm, offered to stay behind with his men and keep Éowyn safe for her brother and the king. He was a trusted friend of Éowyn's and had grown up beside her. He was good friends with Éomer and had been with Théodred. He, too, had known of the evils of Gríma towards Éowyn and her discomfort at being left alone with him for this time. This was his chief reason for staying, although he did not tell the king so. He agreed to converge with the army when they came to Edoras on their way to Minas Tirith. 

As promised, Gandalf sent messengers with news from Minas Tirith to inform the king of their desperate situation. This was Merry Brandybuck, accompanied by a Gondorian soldier named Hirgon. 

Both man and hobbit fell on one knee before Théoden in the hall of Dunharrow.

"Greetings, Théoden, Lord of the Rohirrim," cried Hirgon; "I bring tidings from our Lord Denethor."

"Speak," said Théoden, anxiously.

"The Nazgûl have begun their attack on Minas Tirith and Lord Denethor begs your assistance as soon as possible."

Théoden looked concerned, but still remained composed and stern.

"I have assembled almost all of my men here at Dunharrow, but I await the arrival of my largest éored by tomorrow. They arrive with a strong contingency of five hundred riders. I hope to leave within a day or so, after they have rested. If Lord Denethor is prepared to wait until then, I shall bring a force of six thousand men to assist him."

"Yes, lord," said Hirgon, graciously, "Denethor will await your coming." And with that he hurried out of the hall to ride straight to the steward.

Merry remained standing before Théoden.

"Lord," he began, tentatively, "I wish to join your service and to ride beside you in the coming days." He shuffled his feet somewhat nervously.

Théoden smiled warmly.

"I would be happy to have you accompany me to our capital of Edoras, Master Holbytla. There you shall look upon the Golden Hall of my forefathers, and meet my niece, Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan. I shall provide you with one of my ponies; his name is Stybba."

"Thank you, lord," said Merry excitedly.

"Come," said Théoden, "let us talk of your adventures. Gandalf has informed me that you are well travelled for such a young hobbit."

Théoden seemed like a very kind old man, thought Merry, as he sat with Théoden discussing his travels from Hobbiton. It grew late into the night, and both Théoden and Merry were weary.

"It is time to rest," said Théoden to Merry, "I shall have one of my men show you to a room."

Merry was led to a comfortable guest room, where he would stay until their departure. He was exhausted from his ride and slept well that night.

            The next morning, Merry was woken by the arrival of the last éored. He dressed himself quickly and hurried outside. The men were preparing busily to leave. A messenger had arrived early that morning, informing Théoden that they could not waste ay time. Merry ran to find Théoden. He came into the hall to find him sitting with all of the Rohirrim captains, discussing battle plans. Merry waited patiently until they had finished and then approached.

"Sire," he said, "what do you wish me to do?"

Théoden looked at him and smiled but Merry could see the distress in his eyes.

"You shall ride on Stybba, beside me. We go to Edoras as soon as all are ready."

Merry nodded and went to find Stybba and pack his things.

            An hour later, all men were ready to ride for Edoras to inform Éowyn of the recent situations that had arisen, and to join with Elfhelm and his men. Théoden mounted his horse, Snowmane; Merry rode up to his side and looked up at the king. He face was grave and his eyes burdened. But he cried out to the men:

"Forth, Eorlingas! We ride to Edoras!"

            Gandalf, meanwhile, was at Minas Tirith, with the other three hobbits, Pippin, Frodo and Sam, speaking with Denethor and his son, Faramir.

"The Lord of the Nazgûl leads the forces of the Lidless Eye from Mordor, Denethor," said Gandalf, "you must prepare to charge against them."

"We have not the forces, Mithrandir," said Denethor, despairingly. "We do not have yet the strength of Rohan amongst us."

"I have news from Théoden that, at present, they ride with all speed to the city. They will be here within a few days."

"Then they will come to find only the rubble of a once great city, fallen."

"Your fortress is still strong, Denethor," Gandalf reassured him. "Your men are still dedicated to you. They have a captain whom they rest all their hope in." He gestured to Faramir.

"I would that Boromir were still with us to help in this troubled time. I would that I have my loyal son beside me now, not some wizard's pupil."

"Do you wish," he said, "that our places had been exchanged?"

"I would," replied Denethor, without much thought.

Faramir looked crushed as he stood beside his father. Is it not a father's duty to love both sons for their achievements and not wish the death of the less favoured son? He walked out of the hall in silence.

Gandalf stared after him and then turned to Denethor with a fury in his eyes.

"You are not fit to be called a father, if you choose to wish death upon your only remaining son."

Frodo stepped forward. "The ring drove Boromir to his death when he tried to take it from me!" he yelled with vehemence. "It is no fault of Faramir as to what happened to him and it should stand as proof of the Ring's evil."

"Frodo is right. Boromir was a great man," said Gandalf, "but over the course of the journey, I watched the evil consume him. Accept that he is gone and focus your mind on the problem at hand."

"I cannot accept that my son is dead. Let a father grieve for the loss of a son in peace, old fool," retorted Denethor.

"Do not speak to Gandalf in such a way!" shouted Sam, coming to Gandalf's defence. "He is wiser than you or I, and you should listen to his counsel."

"You know not of what you speak young hobbit. Mithrandir may be wise, but his wisdom does not extend to the troubles of lesser beings."

The hobbits stood still, flames in their eyes. Gandalf remained calm and composed. He did not appear offended by these comments. This confused the hobbits. Here was Denethor, Steward of Gondor, calling Gandalf, their dear friend, an 'old fool'. And Gandalf, wisest of all the Istari, stood in silence, saying nothing and seeming not at all insulted. 

"Dear friend," said Gandalf, addressing Denethor coolly. "Do you not have within your possession, one of the palantírí, the lost Seeing Stones?"

"What business is it of yours?" Denethor snapped.

"Only that Minas Tirith will fall if the Dark Forces of Mordor have seen what you have been doing. They see all, and if you have looked into that palantír, they will know all. Gondor's fate will be sealed."

Denethor was silent. He stared at the floor.

"Just as I suspected," said Gandalf. "Do not gaze into the palantír again. Sauron looks for every opportunity to find our weaknesses."

Denethor looked worried. He had not thought of what he was doing and it may now cost him the city. He stared down blankly. Gandalf went on.

"The Lord of the Nazgûl is our chief worry now. The orcs of Mordor have high hopes in this battle and a powerful force to lead them to it. But our trial of strength is not yet come. And if words spoken of old be true, not by the hand of man shall he fall, and hidden from the Wise is the doom that awaits him. The Witch-King of Angmar will fall but we do not know who this force may be. Our hope rests in their hands."

Suddenly another deathly scream came from one of the Nazgûl as they flew over the city. All were still and felt the terror spread through their bodies.

"I wish for this person to come to our aid soon," said Pippin, shivering.

"As do all, young hobbit," replied Gandalf.

            Meanwhile, Merry rode beside the king as the Rohirrim sped towards Edoras. It was growing dark, but the beacons of the city shone brightly as they approached. In this light, Merry was able to see a rider coming to meet them.

"Hail, Lord of the Mark!" cried the rider.

It was a woman, clad as a warrior, with a sword at her waist.

"It is good to see you, Éowyn," said Théoden; "I trust that my time away has not been too much of a burden for you?"

"No, sire," she answered. Merry observed that she was stern of face and almost sad.

"Elfhelm is awaiting your command to depart as soon as you are ready," said Éowyn.

Théoden nodded, "I do wish to leave soon, but first, we must eat and rest. The men are hungry and weary, but we must away as first light tomorrow." Théoden dismounted and gestured for Merry to follow.

The evening was rather uneventful as all were tired and eager to rest. Merry sat beside the king at supper and listened to him talk of the history of Rohan. He noticed Lady Éowyn speaking with a captain, whom he assumed was Elfhelm, as he had not seen him before, in low whispers, glancing up every so often to check that no one was listening. Éowyn caught Merry's eye but he quickly looked away.

When all had finished eating, they retired to their welcoming beds.

"Be ready at dawn tomorrow, Master Holbytla," said Théoden to Merry, as he made his way to bed.

"I will, my lord," answered Merry, sleepily. 

**A/N:** Well, that's better. The chapter might make a bit more sense and be more complete. 


	14. Dernhelm

**A/N:** Most of you will know the basic idea of this chapter just from the title, those of you who have read the books. This goes away from Éowyn to focus more of Merry and Gandalf, and the situation at Minas Tirith. I hope you enjoy it.

I don't know if I forgot anything, but if I did, it is now here. Anyway, it looks better. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters. They are all the creation of J.RR. Tolkien.  

**Chapter 14: Dernhelm**

Another scream as one of the Nazgûl flew over the White Tower of Ecthelion. Faramir had gone to Osgiliath with his forces, where the defences were weakening. If Osgiliath fell, then the gateway would open for the armies of Mordor. It was the only thing that stood between Minas Tirith and Minas Morgul. Both Sauron and Denethor knew this. 

            Frodo and Sam awaited any orders from Gandalf regarding the Ring. In order for them to have any chance of success in destroying it, a large enough battle needed to draw the Eye of Sauron away from them and focus elsewhere. The Ring had begun to take its toll on Frodo. He wished to be rid of its burden, but would not part with it. He had spent many a day in the Houses of Healing to seek solitude and refuge from its evil. Sam was concerned for him and sought counsel from Gandalf.

"Is there nothing we can do for him?" asked Sam, "There has to be something?"

"I am afraid that there is nothing we can do to help him now, Sam," said Gandalf, "Frodo must do this alone, he is close to the end, but the Ring has overcome him. He wishes to be rid of its pain, but cannot leave it. You must ensure that he fulfils his duty, Sam. He must destroy it, and you must see to it. Promise me, Sam."

"I will, Mr Gandalf, sir," replied Sam.

The following morning, an hour before dawn, Merry woke to find himself being shaken out of a deep slumber. A pair of shining blue eyes stared at him in the darkness of the early morn.

"Wake up, Master Merry," said a voice, "the men are readying themselves to ride at dawn." Éowyn had come to bring him to Théoden this morn.

"Hurry, Master Merry," she said, "the king is expecting you."

He scrambled out of bed and hunted around for his clothes. Éowyn stepped away and walked out of the room. Merry proceeded to dress himself, eager to go down to Théoden. He felt mixed emotions as he made his way down to the hall. He had never been in a war before and didn't know what to expect.

            The feelings were the same as he entered the main hall. Théoden sat amongst the Rohirric soldiers, and they, like him, were all afraid and uneasy. Merry noticed, too, that Éowyn was not to be seen, and as the time passed to their departure, he began to wonder why she was not there. Surely she wished to see them off, especially Théoden and her brother, Éomer. 

The men began to dwindle in numbers from the hall and Merry decided to prepare for the long ride ahead. He thought of home, of Hobbiton. How he missed it. How he wished to be there. He would go home when this was all over. 

            Messengers came and went from the High Court of Minas Tirith. Days passed slowly, the darkness from the east consumed the light of the day. Reports came that Faramir's forces had been unsuccessful. Théoden drew nearer and hope that they would be saved blossomed among the people, even in this dark time. But the Nazgûl continued to roam the lands around the city, inflicting pain and fear on all.

"Sauron's forces grow greater in number and power," cried Denethor. "All hope is lost from us. The light is gone from our glorious days. Gondor will fall and all will come to ruin."

"Théoden rides, still, with all speed," reassured Gandalf.

"Then he will arrive too late," said Denethor, despairingly. "There is no hope left, or if there is, it is shrouded from our sight."

"We must never lose sight of what hope is left in the darkness," said Gandalf.

A horn sounded from near the city gates.

"Is Théoden come?" asked Denethor.

"It is Faramir," replied Gandalf. "He returns with his remaining men. I must see him."

            At dawn, Stybba was saddled and ready to go. Merry stood beside him. Suddenly Éowyn appeared atop the steps of Meduseld. She wore a gown of black velvet, cut low at the chest, and stitched with fine gold thread, the long angel sleeves, with golden patterns, flowing behind as she walked down to them. On her head rested a wreath of delicate golden flowers, and around her neck hung a pendant encrusted with rubies, on a fine gold chain. Her golden hair was done up, neatly hidden beneath the crown. 

She was a queen; regal, and beautiful, but cold as that icy morn that was. The words she spoke to Éomer and the king were strange to Merry, but although he did not understand them, he could hear the pain and sorrow in her tone. 

She turned to him now.

"Farewell, Master Merry," she smiled, "I hope that we shall have the pleasure of meeting again." She kissed his cheek softly. Merry felt his face flush a deep crimson but he smiled back in return. She turned from the party and hurried back inside. Merry now saw Théoden approach him.

"Master Holbytla," said Théoden, "I am afraid that I cannot allow you to come with me to Minas Tirith."

"But sire," he protested, "I pledged my service to you!"

"I believe, however," continued Théoden, "that service would be better served here, with Lady Éowyn."

"I do not wish to remain here while all of my friends fight. I wish to join them on the battlefield. I should feel ashamed not to."

"I fear that Stybba is not fit for such speed and you would not be able to ride a great steed, as they be too strong for so small a person. I bid you stay for your safety." He walked away.

Merry stood glumly beside Stybba as he watched the riders assemble to leave. A voice came soft in his ear.

"Where will wants not, a way opens, so we say," it whispered, "and so I have found myself."

Merry looked up to see the rider's face. He was young; Merry had not seen him before. But as he stared closely, the face appeared familiar.

"You wish to ride with the Rohirrim, beside the King of the Mark," he said.

"I do," replied Merry, his head dropping again.

"Then you shall ride with me," he said.

Merry's face lit up with delight.

"Thank you indeed," said Merry, "but may I enquire as to your name?"

The rider smiled.

"I am surprised that you do not know me," he said, "but if that is so, then call me Dernhelm."

**A/N: **Ok, I don't know if this chapter was missing anything, but, better safe than sorry. 


	15. Théoden’s Darkest Hour

**A/N:** Ok, now it gets good. They've left Edoras, Dernhelm and Merry, and have gone with the army to Minas Tirith. Hehehehe, I'm excited. I had so much fun writing this one. I have changed some of the lines with Dernhelm and the Witch-King; otherwise I can't call this really cool bit mine. You'll be able to guess mine; they're the crap ones. This is an updated version. My sister refused to read it and point out my silly spelling mistakes. They have been fixed. 

**Disclaimer:** All characters, places etc. are the work of J.R.R. Tolkien.

**Chapter 15: Théoden's Darkest Hour**

            Merry was hidden from sight beneath Dernhelm's cloak, but could see a little of the scenery from under it, as it sped past him. Dernhelm was a skilled rider and did not falter as they raced across the plains. He rode with such ease and grace. Merry wondered at how far they had travelled that day. The sky was darkening and it grew colder. They camped that night, and morning came again, sooner than hoped for Merry. He was sore from the last days ride.

            Dernhelm spoke with Elfhelm briefly before their departure that morning. He was very quiet throughout the trip, and had said very little since they left Edoras. He was, however, as kind as any, and assured Merry that it would not be long until they arrived at Minas Tirith. Elfhelm appeared to know something of his existence but it didn't seem to bother him. Merry suspected that Dernhelm had told him everything of his stowaway rider. 

Days passed slowly, and Merry wondered when they would arrive at their destination. On the third day, the army passed over a ridge. As they looked down, they knew that they had reached Minas Tirith. The sight that Merry saw was one of horror. Huge winged beasts circled the city, their riders, robed in black, uttering high-pitched screeches. He shuddered. This was once the farmland around Minas Tirith; the Pelennor Fields. 

The screeches had become almost unbearable by this point. Denethor sat on his throne in a cold sweat, looking pale and tense. Gandalf paced the hall anxiously, an expression of concern on his wise face. Pippin watched them, the steward and the wizard; both were much wiser than he, but neither had any answers that could help. They awaited only the signal of Théoden's arrival. 

"We are doomed to die starving!" cried Denethor despairingly. "We will never look upon the light of day again. Trapped, as prisoners, in our own city."

"Denethor," said Gandalf, severely, looking reproachfully at the steward. "We are far from defeat. Théoden rides here at this very moment. He is due to arrive soon."

"Then why has he not come?" asked Denethor, angrily. "He probably hides in his city and Golden Hall, such as he has done these past years."

"And you can boast better, Denethor," scolded Gandalf. "Many times, Théoden has asked for your assistance, and you deny him that. I shouldn't be surprised if he does not ride to you."

Denethor scoffed with disgust. "This is a matter which will affect the whole of Middle Earth. It is of more importance than some meagre battle at Helm's Deep."

"Were Rohan defeated at Helm's Deep then you would not have their army coming to your aid," said Gandalf, "and Isengard, too, would be on the attack. Do you not see that?" 

Denethor snorted and turned away. Gandalf shook his grey head. The little hobbits looked at him, and then at Denethor. Suddenly, something caught their attention. Everyone pricked up their ears to listen.

A horn had sounded not too far off. Denethor looked at Gandalf. They both nodded and smiled.

"Théoden has come," said Denethor. "Send the armies out to assist him!"

Théoden led the charge on to the Pelennor Fields, a large horn sounding their arrival to the armies of Minas Tirith. A mass of Rohirric riders advanced on the enemy, several of which were killed in the first charge. It seemed as if luck was on their side. But the Nazgûl had come to claim their prey and lead the armies of Mordor against them; and the riders fell, one by one, into the mud of the battlefield.

"Forth, Eorlingas," cried Théoden, and rode forward, hewing orcs left and right.

Snowmane galloped ahead of the Rohirrim, Théoden, with his sword drawn. But even as they did, darkness fell over the fields.

The Lord of the Nazgûl rose up in front of him. Horses screamed and reared up, men fled from his sight. Snowmane, too, reared, a black arrow piercing him. Théoden tumbled from his back and was crushed beneath Snowmane, as both fell to the ground.

Dernhelm had been thrown off by Windfola with the Nazgûl's appearance. He and Merry lay a short distance from where the king had fallen. The Lord of the Nazgûl had turned his attention to Théoden, as he lay still in the mud. 

He was overcome with emotions, anger towards the Nazgûl Captain, sorrow for the lost king, and a surprising sense of courage to do what had to be done. Dernhelm gathered up his strength and courage, and rose to meet the Black Captain. He stood firm against him.

"Begone, foul dwimmerlaik," he cried out, addressing the black hooded being before him. He stood, proud and stern, against the Nazgûl and his fell beast. The Witch-King laughed, coldly.

"Come not between the Nazgûl and his prey! Or thy flesh will be borne, alive, to be devoured by the Lidless Eye."

"You shall not harm the Lord of the Mark. I will hinder it if I can, I am not afraid of thee, Lord of Darkness!" said Dernhelm, drawing his sword. 


	16. Not by the Hand of Man

**A/N:** This chapter gives a whole new meaning to the expression, 'dressed to kill.' I hope you like it. I know I loved writing it. This is the best part in the whole story, both book and soon-to-be movie.

**Disclaimer:** These characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien, not me.           

**Chapter 16: Not by the Hand of Man**

            Dernhelm stood before the Witch-King of Angmar, both hands gripping his sword as he held it vertically in front of him. The king lay still behind him. Merry watched with fascination and fear.

The Witch-King let out a laugh, which chilled his blood. But Dernhelm stood fast, his face filled with anger.

"Hinder me! Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"

It was Dernhelm, now, who laughed. Merry thought this strange under the circumstances.

"But no living man am I!" Dernhelm cried out. He threw back his helm.

There stood Éowyn, her golden hair released from the constraints of the helm. Her face was hard, but her eyes filled with sorrow for her lost uncle. 

The Witch-King was silent in doubt. He remembered the words spoken so many years ago by Glorfindel.

"…Far off yet is his doom, and not by the hand of man will he fall…"

Those haunting words of his fate and fall. Words he had not been reminded of until now.

The winged creature let out a screech, and assailed upon her. Éowyn stood before him, shieldmaiden of Rohan and niece to the fallen king. She did not falter or recoil, but dealt one swift blow of her sword, hewing its head skilfully, jumping back as it fell crashing to the ground. 

But the Witch-King was far from dead. He rose up from the body of the dead beast, sword raised, ready to strike a deadly blow. He hit her shield and shattered it into pieces. Her arm was broken with this blow, and she fell to her knees before him. 

Her mind was still rigid and unyielding but her body was too weak. She could see his eyes glittering from beneath the heavy black cloak but could not gather the strength to raise her sword against him. Merry was not far from where she stood, but the Witch-King did not notice him. He was not going to let her fall here, so young and so fair. He drew his sword of Númenor, gathered from his adventures at the Barrow-Downs, and drove it behind the Black Captain's knee. He howled in pain and his sword fell short of Éowyn. Merry struggled up.

"Now, Éowyn!" he cried. "You must kill him now."

Éowyn lifted her sword shakily, and plunged it between the Witch-King's crown and his mantle. The crown fell with a clatter to the ground and rolled away. Éowyn collapsed beside it, unmoving.

Merry ran to her side.

"Éowyn! You cannot leave me now!" he cried, tears streamed down his reddening face. He kissed her forehead gently. He saw the king move nearby and hurried to him.

"Farewell, Master Holbytla," Théoden said, quietly. "I am sorry we did not have the time to talk of all things. I would have liked to learn more of your kind." 

"I am sorry, my lord," sobbed Merry, "I disobeyed your orders. You told me I would have no place here, and you were right."

"Do not apologise," said Théoden, "You did well today, young hobbit. You should be proud." 

Merry nodded, still sobbing, uncontrollably.

"But you must tell Éomer. Tell him, he must be king after me. And say goodbye to my dear Éowyn. She would not have had me die here. But now I shall never see her shining face again."

"My lord. Éowyn, she is here," he said. But the king did not hear these final words. He had passed on.

            A horn sounded, as new forces arrived to help in the fight. Éomer came with his men and rode near to where Théoden and Éowyn had fallen. He stared upon the face of his sister with a mix of fury, distress and confusion.

"Éowyn, my dear sister," he said, half-whispered, "how do you come to be here? Tell me you are but a fell dream, and do not lie dead before my eyes."

Merry spoke.

"She challenged the Lord of the Nazgûl, and there he lies dead. But she was badly wounded," he said. "Théoden bid me tell you, before he died, that you are to be king in his place."

"Thank you, Master Merry," replied Éomer. "You have done well today."

Éomer motioned to a handful of guards.

"Bear Théoden King, and Lady Éowyn up to the city. They shall be given proper burials when this is over."

The nodded solemnly and obeyed, lifting the two bodies carefully and taking them to the outer gates of the city. Merry followed them, as he did not wish to leave Éowyn. Éomer rode away with the rest of his men, to help what was left of the army, to fight Mordor.

            They reached the gates of the city, where Prince Imrahil was emerging with his knights. He gazed at the bodies as they lay on the bier.

"Whom do you bear, good men of Rohan?" he asked.

"Théoden, King of Rohan and Lord of the Mark," they answered.

Imrahil looked puzzled as he stared from Théoden and then at Éowyn's fair but pale face.

"But, here is no man which you bear, pray tell me her name?"

"She is Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan, sister to Éomer and niece of the king. We had not known of her presence here until now."

He stared more closely at her, captivated by her beauty. He touched her soft hand.

"Men of Rohan!" he cried out, suddenly. "The Lady is alive. She is gravely hurt, but not dead. Take her with all speed to the Houses of Healing."

            They made their way to the highest part of the citadel, where the Houses of Healing were. They were situated not far from the High Court of the Stewards and Kings of Gondor. Inside were beautiful, fragrant gardens full of flowers and many types of trees. The Healers had been busy, tending to the injured from the battle. 

When Éowyn was brought to them, they observed her critical situation and hurriedly took her away. Her arm was badly broken, this was clear, but as for the wounds inflicted by the Witch-King, they had no knowledge of how to heal it. Merry, too, was taken care of. He had suffered maladies from the Black Captain also. He was weary; the battle with the Witch-King had been hard on both him and Éowyn. 

Back down on the Pelennor Fields, Éomer and his men were struggling. The death of the Nazgûl Lord had been beneficial but they were still outnumbered. Imrahil had come to aid them with his knights but greater forces were needed, stronger forces. Then came the salvation that they had been awaiting for several days.  

Trumpets sounded and a mist cleared from the battlefield.


	17. Estel dollen, estel bannen

**A/N:** Ok, I know I said that there would be no more boring bits, but like I said with all of the others, this is important. It has to be told. 

Ok, updated Elvish and some other parts too, I think. I can't remember now. 

**Chapter 17: Estel dollen, estel bannen (Hope has come, hope has gone)**

            Aragorn had emerged from the Paths of the Dead, his army behind him. And others also followed out of the shadows and mist, those who had been gathered from the mountains and paths. He looked changed from his journey, younger, prouder. He wore a leather chest plate emblazoned with a silver tree, a crown and seven stars and held Narsil firmly in one hand; a rekindled flame. Aragorn spoke now; his voice clear, echoing through the fields.

"Hosserim Mordor telir na Minas Tirith. Anan dannannenam na hyn, dan ú-an. Hyn si degitham, derir nomen. No bell o emel a dól; natham túrui." (The armies of Mordor march on Minas Tirith. Too long have we fallen to them, but no more. We shall crush them now, as they stand before us. Be strong of heart and mind; we shall be victorious)

The Dúnedain cheered at this comment, Legolas and Gimli, too. With this, he raised Narsil high into the air; it glistened in the sunlight. 

Éomer had come now with what remained of his men. He had heard Aragorn's horn calling across the plains. He rode forward now, the riders following slowly. A smile spread across his face as he rode to Aragorn's side.

"It is good to see you return safe from the Paths of the Dead. I feared you would not come."

"I am safe, Éomer," he said. "I bring forces with me, those who wished to follow the King of Gondor against Mordor. But now is not the time or place for discussions."

He galloped forward, leading his army onto the Pelennor Fields. Éomer rode behind with the Rohirrim. Aragorn led the charge against the armies of the Lidless Eye, skewing them with Narsil. The hearts of the remaining men had been lifted with Aragorn's arrival. This hope had given them strength and courage to face the masses of orcs. 

            It took only a very short time to defeat what was left of Mordor's forces. They scattered and fled at the sight of Narsil, retreating to the Black Gates. Aragorn found Éomer at the end of the battle. 

"The battle is won. You must tell me of all that happened before I came," he said. 

"We had thought all hope to be lost when Théoden was slain," said Éomer. 

"Slain!" cried Aragorn, aghast. "But how?" 

"The Lord of the Nazgûl," said Éomer, plainly, lowering his head. He looked devastated. Who now would claim the throne of Rohan? He did not have the heart to. But with Théodred dead…

"Where is he now?" asked Aragorn. 

"He was taken to the Houses of Healing inside the city. My sister, too, has gone with him." 

"She is here?" enquired Aragorn, looking confused. Had she come to see him? Did she hope to fight?

"She fell protecting him," murmured Éomer, mournfully. "I should have done more to prevent her coming," he blurted out, "I was afraid that she would and expected as much. And now, she lies dead inside the city." 

Aragorn looked inconsolable. Éowyn was dead. He felt nothing, only an emptiness deep inside him. 'How could this have happened?' he thought. 'As one so young and fair, why had it been she who died?' He could not bear to think of her lying cold as stone; never to see her rare smile again, never to touch her soft, warm skin. He spoke finally.

"Was there anyone with her? When she fell?"

"Young Meriadoc," said Éomer, glumly. "He almost died himself, at just seeing her lying there." He stared at the ground again, looking as solemn and crushed as he was.

"He went with her body to the Houses of Healing. Poor lad, he couldn't bear to leave her," said Éomer. 

Aragorn lifted his eyes up to the glistening Tower of Ecthelion and stared.

"It is time for us to enter the city. None are to know my identity, however. I will reveal myself to them in due time," he said. He rode toward the gates of the citadel and called out to the guards.

"We come victorious from the field of battle. We wish to speak with Denethor and to lay eyes on the dead King Théoden of Rohan and Lady Éowyn," he cried.

The guard peered out from his post and looked at them intently. 

"Gandalf has said that Denethor, too, is dead. His son, Faramir, now lies in the Houses of Healing with grievous injuries as a result of him."

"We must speak with Gandalf. Let him take us to Faramir and our friends," called Aragorn.

"What should I tell him, sir?" asked the guard.

"Inform Gandalf that the King has returned to claim his crown!" he shouted up.

The guard stared in shock; his mouth had dropped open and was moving slightly like a fish. 

"Yes, sir," he said, hastily, and hurried off.

            It didn't take long for him to return, smiling broadly at the party and leading them most obligingly up to the Houses of Healing, where Gandalf had said he would meet them. At this point, Aragorn had ordered that none but Éomer, Legolas and Gimli were to accompany him any further. He told Elladan and Elrohir to take the Dúnedain up to where the other soldiers were resting, but those who were injured would go also to the Houses of Healing. 

Aragorn led his small band to the pinnacle of the citadel where the Houses of Healing were located, along with the High Court of the Stewards and Kings of Gondor. Gandalf was waiting with Pippin at the entrance to the Houses when Aragorn arrived. The wizard's face was grave. 

"Denethor was misinformed that Faramir had been killed," he said, "and as a result of that, he is dead. He tried to burn both himself and Faramir in the tunnels behind the palace. Faramir now lies wounded inside. You must hurry, Aragorn, his time wains and there are others, too, who are in need of your help."

Aragorn nodded. "Bring me to him," and they walked inside.


	18. Healing Hands

**A/N: **This was one of my favourite chapters to write so far. It doesn't end the same as in the book but I hope you like it anyway. There is still the discussion with Éomer and Aragorn about Éowyn, but as far as I know, all of the lines in it are my own.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters. They are the brilliant creation of J.R.R. Tolkien

**Chapter 18: Healing Hands**

            The Houses of Healing were dim, and they smelt strongly of healing herbs. Aragorn was immediately brought to Faramir, who lay still on his bed. Aragorn stared at the young captain and then turned to one of the healers. 

"Bring me some fresh athelas," he requested, moving towards a large cupboard in one corner of the room and taking out a wooden bowl and some rags.

The man looked puzzled. "Athelas?" he asked. "It is but a weed, it has no healing qualities."

Aragorn shook his head. "You are mistaken my friend," he said. "It has many healing powers, far greater than any other herb you have here. Fetch some fresh cloves from outside and bring them here quickly."

The healer bowed and nodded, turning away and hurrying outside. Aragorn set down the bowl on the table beside Faramir's bed.

"Fetch me some warm water," he said, addressing another of the healers, who went away immediately, presently returning with a pitcher. Aragorn proceeded to pour an adequate amount into the bowl and waited for the arrival of the athelas. 

The healer arrived a short time later with six fresh cloves of athelas and gave them to Aragorn. He took two cloves in his hands and began to crush them and, when he was done, cast them into the warm water. 

The smell was powerful and it wafted around the room. It brought feelings and thoughts of happiness to all who were there. Faramir's eyes opened slowly and he looked up at Aragorn. 

"Thank you, my lord," he said, smiling weakly. "You have returned home at last."

Aragorn smiled. "Rest now, good Faramir," he said, as Faramir closed his eyes again. 

            He now came to Merry and noted his injuries. "He is not seriously wounded," he said. "But it will take time for him to recover."

He brought a second bowl and filled it with water from the pitcher. Then, as before, he crushed two cloves of athelas and placed them in the water, setting it beside the young hobbit.

Merry stirred after a while and blearily stared at the people clustered around his bed. He started suddenly, looking panicked. 

"Where is Éowyn?" he asked, frantically. "She is badly hurt, you must go to her now!" he cried. 

Aragorn looked piteously at the hobbit. 

"She is dead, Merry," he said in a choked voice. 

"No, no, she is alive!" Merry cried again. "Prince Imrahil said that she was alive! She is here! In the Houses of Healing!"

Aragorn looked at Gandalf, who nodded, solemnly, but with the slightest hint of a grin to be seen on his face.

"Take me to her, immediately!" he shouted. The chief healer stepped forward and beckoned for him to follow. Aragorn hurried off with him followed closely by Éomer and Gandalf, leaving a stunned Legolas, Gimli and Pippin behind. 

            They entered a large room with a single large window in it, which looked over the beautiful gardens. On a bed in the centre on the room lay Éowyn, very still, with the sunlight streaming over her through the window. Aragorn rushed to her side and knelt on the ground beside her bed and seized her hand in his. 

"You should have brought me to her straight away," he said. He looked into her face.

She was deathly white; her skin was as cold as ice. Her clothes were ripped and muddy from her fight with the Nazgûl and she was perfectly still. Aragorn could see that her arm was badly broken and would take time to mend. There was a large gash on her upper arm and one across her stomach where the Nazgûl had attempted to stab her with his blade. Her face was dirty and had received scratches from her fall.  

Aragorn held before him another bowl and was crushing the remaining athelas to put in the water. The smell had filled the room and wafted around them, but still Éowyn did not wake, nor did she stir.

"How has she come to this?" asked Aragorn to Éomer. "This weakness is more serious than just that of the Witch-King."

Éomer stared blankly at his sister as she lay on her bed. 'How had it come to this?' he asked himself. What could have caused her to slip so far away from them? Then, he realised.

"Gríma," he said, quietly, his brown eyes fixed on his sister, unmoving from their position. 

Aragorn stared at him for a moment and then nodded.

"I feared as much," he said in a low voice, "I had seen signs of his grip over her, but I had no idea it would come to this."

"I did," said Éomer. He now looked up at Gandalf and Aragorn. "I have watched him weave his spell over our kingdom, and over my sister, from the day he arrived. Éowyn knew this also, but she was too proud to let it trouble her. She fought against him in her own way, never allowing him to be alone with the king, forever thwarting his power over Théoden as much as it was possible. But she neglected the grip that he had over her. She was brave and defended Théoden and the kingdom. She did not see that her own defences were slipping, or if she did, she never gave up hope in them." 

He stared again at the limp body of his younger sister. He was filled with a hatred against all those who had brought her to this. He was so overcome with it that he let out a cry of anger. 

"Curse the foul creature that did this to her!" he shouted. "Curse Gríma Wormtongue! Curse the Lord of the Nazgûl!" 

He fell on his knees beside Éowyn and laid his head on the bed. Gandalf walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"There is nothing we can do now but wait," he said to Éomer. "Her wounds are grievous and require time and patience."

"What if they do not heal?" shouted Éomer, heatedly. "What then? I have already lost one dear to me today, I do not wish to loose another."

"She is not in darkness yet, Éomer," said Aragorn, softly. "She is strong of spirit and her courage surpasses none, as you have said. She will not give up, and she would not wish you to either, my friend."

He reached for the bowl he had set on her bedside table and one of the rags he had brought in. He proceeded to wash her face, side and broken arm with the water and then placed the bowl down. She lay still on the bed, unmoving, no breath from her cold lips. 

"Someone should watch over her for tonight and see if she has woken by tomorrow and ensure that nothing happens to her," suggested Gandalf, who glanced very quickly at Aragorn. 

"I shall watch her," offered Aragorn. "If she worsens, I will be able to tend to her." He looked at Éomer. "She will be well," he assured him, "she will wake."

Éomer looked miserable but, nevertheless, he turned to leave. Gandalf looked at Aragorn and nodded, following Éomer out of the room. 

Aragorn took a seat beside Éowyn's bed and there he remained. 


	19. Return To Me

**A/N:** I know I'm repeating myself a bit in this next chapter. 

I don't remember if I updated anything other than my Elvish in this chapter. I may have. I kept adding parts to the entire story, correcting things, all the time I was writing it. 

**Disclaimer:** I wish I owned these characters, I'm so bloody proud of them, but I don't so, they're Tolkien's, I'll have to survive.

**Chapter 19: Return To Me**

Aragorn sat silent beside her, staring into her face every now and then, hoping with all his heart that she would open her eyes to look at him again. He knew how it had come to this. 

It was not Gríma that had led her to this situation. Gríma had been the cause of some of the evil that had overcome her, with that of the Witch-King, but Aragorn knew what had led her to the Pelennor Fields, to her doom. 

It had been him, Aragorn, who had caused her to leave Edoras and go to battle. 

She had been furious with him after their confrontation. He had told her to remain behind but she had protested, refusing to let him ride off to his death. She had wept on the day he had left. He had seen her distress, felt her agony, but he had ignored them. 

And now, here she lay, not moving, not breathing, cold as ice. He did not believe that she had really loved him and refused to believe that he loved her. Try as he might he could not deny that he cared deeply for her, more than anyone before. 

He now saw that she, too, had loved him and that it was such that when he left her, she had wanted to fight and prove herself, or die trying, as she had nothing left to live for. It was clear to him that she loved him and her feelings for him would not sway. And the proof of that now lay before him.

"Lastach nin, Éowyn?" (Can you hear me, Éowyn?) he whispered close to her. "Aníron ethelo na nin, Éowyn. Na estel, ú-gwanno han." (Please, return to me, Éowyn. There is still hope, do not turn from it) 

He bent over the bed, his face hovering over hers. He lingered for a moment, pressing his mouth against her soft lips. It was surreal to him, his heart fluttered, but in the same way so wonderful. He stepped away from her now, watching for any sign of movement.

But Éowyn remained as still as ever. Aragorn was concerned. She should have woken by now. The scent of athelas was fading fast away and soon there would be need of more. He sought out one of the healers and asked that more athelas be brought to him and then returned immediately to Éowyn's side. She had not moved and lay pale in the sunlight. 

He remembered Éomer's words. What she had been through only a year before he had arrived at Edoras? Éomer had said that she had dealt with it but still it had taken its toll on her. And now, he could not bear to think about the possibility of her here forever, struggling to battle her demons alone, inside her. He had told Éomer that she would wake, and she should wake, but now even he was unsure. How terrible had her ordeal been? Éomer could not answer this question, only Éowyn could, but she could not speak of it now. 

He noticed that Imrahil had appeared in the doorway of her room. He was holding the remnants of a sword, now covered with blood and dirt.

"I found this where Éowyn fell. I believe it was her sword and I thought it only just to return it to her, at least as a memory of her battle," he said, looking from Aragorn to Éowyn, where his eyes rested. 

He walked over to the table and laid the fragments of her sword down, then proceeded to Éowyn's side. He stared into her deathly white face and remembered the first time he had seen her. Though she lay still, beauty had radiated around her. He had never imagined a shieldmaiden to look as she did. He always considered that they had skill with a sword but no or very little beauty. Éowyn was an exception to this assumption; he had never seen her fight but the fact remained that she had defeated the Witch-King where others had failed. 

He looked now at Aragorn, who sat silently beside her body. He knew Aragorn from when they were younger. He had travelled to Dol Amroth several times before, where they had met. 

Now, to see his friend and the future King of Gondor almost fall apart at the sight of Lady Éowyn in this condition was too much. He had never seen Aragorn in such a state before. He thought it best to leave him and walked from the room, looking back briefly at Aragorn and Éowyn as he went.

Aragorn was grateful for this gesture. He needed time with his thoughts. Éowyn was slipping away and he had no way to bring her back to them. The healer had left the athelas on a table by the doorway, in seeing that Aragorn did not wish to be disturbed. 

Aragorn stood now and walked over to the herbs and began to crush them in his hands, casting them into the water. The smell drifted through the room again; he looked over to Éowyn but there was no sign that she would wake. He spoke to her once more in an attempt to gain a response.

"Éowyn. Éowyn, you must fight this darkness. You must return to us." 

He took her hands, clasping both in his own. He felt a slight warmth in them but still she did not wake. He held them for hours, as day slipped into night, he did not move from her side. 

            He felt a hand shaking him lightly. Opening his eyes slowly, Aragorn observed the face of Gandalf looking down at him. It was morning, a bright sun shone through the window, light streamed into the room. 

"You have been asleep for some time, Aragorn," said Gandalf, smiled kindly. "I have never seen you in need of sleep so much before." 

"Has she woken yet?" asked Aragorn, hurriedly, looking over at Éowyn. He took her hand again.

"No, not yet," the wizard replied. "But she shows signs of life due to your work."

Aragorn stood up and seized a handful of athelas, pressing it and placing it into the fresh bowl of water that lay on the table. 

            Éomer had entered the room now and was at his sister's side. The smells of the athelas wafted around the room. Aragorn noticed Éowyn's hand twitch slightly but said nothing, though a glimmer of hope had sparked up inside of him. He did not want to disappoint Éomer if she hadn't. He knelt on the floor by her bed and held her hand once more, calling out to her.

"Éowyn, Lady of Rohan, awake! The shadow wavers but you must banish it from your mind."

He turned to Éomer, who was staring gravely at his sister, and spoke to him.

"Take her hand, you must bring her back."

Éomer took her hand shakily but gripped it tightly.

"Éowyn, Éowyn," he called, tears falling from his eyes. "The shadow has lingered over you for too long." He looked into her face. 

Éowyn's eyes flickered, still closed, and her chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. 


	20. Dreams and Nightmares

**A/N:** Ok, here's the chapter you've been waiting for. Éowyn finally wakes up and reveals some of her past to Aragorn, the more painful side of it. But you'll have to wait for the prequel for details. Document Manager is finally not screwing up my chapters so here it is, more legible than before. 

Updated Elvish, and maybe some more   
  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. I have not altered any of these characters that I know of. I have tried to keep them as Tolkien himself wrote them.  
  


**Chapter 20: Dreams**

            Éowyn stared up at the blurred faces surrounding her. As her vision cleared, she was able to make out the figures of her brother, Aragorn and Gandalf, all of whom were thrilled to see her awake, Éomer most of all. His face was shining down as he looked into her eyes. 

"Éowyn," he cried, "I was afraid that you would never wake." 

She smiled at him, her face still heavy with sorrow and pain.

"I have returned to you, my dear brother," she said, "just as you requested."

But here, Éowyn's eyes moved from Éomer's eyes to rest on Aragorn. He jolted slightly. Did she know? Had she heard his words when he spoke to her as she slept? How much had she heard? 

            Éowyn was still dazed, having just woken moments before. She rejoiced at the sight of her brother, beaming broadly at him, however tired she felt. He, too, was overjoyed to see her well. 

"Where is Théoden? Where is our dear uncle?" she asked Éomer. "I dreamt that he fell on the battlefield but they were only dreams, weren't they?"

She gazed at her brother in anticipation, and then at Aragorn. Their expressions were sombre. Gandalf was no longer in the room. She suspected that he had gone to see about Théoden.

"He fell, Éowyn," murmured Éomer. "You did not imagine it, much as we all wished you had. He is dead."

Éowyn's face went rigid, both of anger and of shock. The pain in her eyes was clear.

"I risked my life to save him, to avenge him. He can't be dead," she stammered. "It can't be true."

"I am afraid it is, my lady," said Aragorn. He turned to Éomer.

"Éowyn is still not recovered, Éomer," he said. "She needs to rest now, she will be well."

"No," she demanded. "I wish to see my uncle!"

"Now is not the time," said Aragorn, firmly. "You need to rest, you need to recover your strength."

Éowyn turned on him angrily. "I do not need to recover my strength. I am perfectly capable to deal with this." 

She got up suddenly and tried to stand on the stone floor, but her legs were still to weak from her experience and they gave way beneath her. Aragorn caught her under the arms just as she fell. Éowyn pulled away fiercely and glared at him, seating herself on the edge of the bed. 

He understood that this news wasn't going to be taken well by her; a girl who had lost her parents at such a young age, who had lost her favourite cousin only a while ago, who had nearly lost her own life in trying to avenge her dead uncle and was almost torn away from the only family that remained, her brother. 

It didn't surprise him that she was angry, she had every right to be and it may take her time to recover from the shock. 

Éowyn was in shock. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused, she couldn't see clearly. Thoughts, memories flew in front of her eyes. She felt like she was dying. Éomer's voice floated into her head.

"Éowyn, you need to rest," he said. "This news seems overwhelming to you." He turned to Aragorn for support.

"Aragorn, surely you agree."

"I do," said Aragorn. "Éowyn, I insist that you rest. You are unwell."

"I am not!" she screamed.

She struck out at him angrily but in her dazed state she missed him, connecting instead with the bowl on the table, knocking it to the ground. She closed her eyes.

Both men could not bear to see her like this, so helpless and distressed. 

"Come, Éomer," said Aragorn. "We should go, Éowyn needs time." He led her brother out of the room.

"No," a strangled choke came from Éowyn's mouth, "don't leave me," she cried after them. Aragorn turned, still directing Éomer forward and out of the room. 

"Aragorn, tolo dan, dartho go nin," (Aragorn, come back, stay with me) she whispered. He walked slowly back to Éowyn and helped her back into her bed. 

"Éowyn, what is it?"

Éowyn looked into his blue-grey eyes with a frightened expression on her face.

"I do not want to be alone," she said, softly. "You cannot know what I have seen, in my dreams. Terrible things…"

"What things, Éowyn?" he asked, slightly concerned and curious.

"No, I cannot, do not make me relive them," she turned away hastily. 

"Éowyn, you must," he pressed. "They will be harder to bear if you have to fight them alone."

Éowyn sighed deeply; a stifled sob could be heard, hidden in it. 

"I had dreams, dreams of my past. Memories of pain, loneliness, sorrow and death. Memories from not so long ago." She paused for a moment, head lowered.

"I saw my father fall, my mother's pain after his death, Théodred's darkness. I saw the Nazgûl again, saw him-saw him strike down Snowmane, watched as Théoden fell from his horse. That darkness. Then those of my life at Meduseld, dark times, with Gríma when I was only young. I remember words he spoke to me. I-I remember…" But here she stopped short, her voice shaking; her bottom lip trembled as if preventing herself from crying. 

"There is no need to say anything more, Éowyn," said Aragorn, softly.

She looked up at his face, gratefully.

"Please, Aragorn," she implored. "Promise me that you will never leave me, promise me that you will always be there for me."

"You know I will always be here for you," he said reassuringly. "If you look for me, you shall find me. Always." 

He held her close, in a warm embrace. Éowyn felt safe in his arms and closed her eyes peacefully.

"Hannon le, Aragorn," (Thank you, Aragorn) she whispered in his ear. He smiled against her cheek and kissed it softly. 

"Get some rest now," he said, and walked out of the room.


	21. Broken Swords

**Disclaimer:** I am so sick of writing these things. I can't come up with anything new to say so I'll leave it at this. Ditto to all I have said in my past disclaimers.  
  


**A/N:** Some new parts to this chapter. 

**Chapter 21: Broken Swords  
  
**

            When Éowyn awoke again, it was shortly before sunrise. She could see a faint glow coming up over the horizon and on to the Pelennor Fields. She noticed her sword lying on a table near the door; the memories of her battle with the Witch-King flooded back to her. The voices came back into her mind, echoing. She wanted so much to block them out, but it was impossible. She found herself back on the battlefield, the Witch-King laughing at her.

"Hinder me! Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!"

"But no living man am I!" 

Removing her helm, she had seen the look of horror on the face of her foe, this satisfied her. She had stood fast against its terrible creature. She had hewed its head and watched it fall. But the Witch-King had turned on her, sword poised to attack. A blow came down upon her shield arm, pain shot through her body, numbness followed. The King of Angmar now stood above her once more, but a shriek only came from him. She saw him falter, Merry stood behind him, blood now covering his sword.

"Now, Éowyn!" he cried. "You must kill him now."

She thrust the blade upwards, between mantle and crown. Her sword shattered into tiny pieces, the Nazgûl fell, defeated. Darkness. Nothing more she remembered.

Her eyes grew clearer, as if waking from a deep slumber. Her senses returned to her gradually. A thought flashed across her mind. She must find Merry, to thank him. In all of the action during her fight, she had forgotten that he had been there, had helped her, had broken the ancient spell from long ago. Without his help, she could not have defeated the Lord of the Nazgûl, one of the most feared creatures of darkness. She placed the sword back on the table and left her room.

Merry was sitting quietly in the gardens when Éowyn found him. He had been watching the colours of the sky change as it grew lighter. When he saw Éowyn approaching, he immediately stood up and bowed low. 

"Master Meriadoc," she said. "I have been searching for you but could not find you in your room. I have wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me, on the Pelennor Fields. You saved my life and I am eternally grateful to you." 

She smiled warmly at him. The young hobbit felt is cheeks flush crimson. 

"You are embarrassed, my little friend," laughed Éowyn. "Do not be so, for there is no need. You are worthy of this praise and should be proud of what you did. Few saw what occurred against the King of Angmar but I saw the bravery you carried against him. Do you know of the ancient prophecy, Merry?"

Merry shook his head. "No, my lady, what does it say?"

"Long ago, an elf named Glorfindel spoke of the fall of the King of Angmar in a fierce battle against him. He spoke these words to Eärnur, Captain of Gondor. 'Far off yet is his doom, and not by the hand of man will he fall'. I faced the Witch-King, and I saw the fear in his eyes. He, too, had heard these words, long ago, the words of his downfall. Words he would wish to forget, but could not. He remembered when I told him, 'no living man am I'. These words wrought fear into his heart. Little did I know then of their significance to him. I dwelt on them, however, after the battle was done."

"What has this to do with me, lady?" asked Merry, still confused. "You killed the Nazgûl, not I. It was your sword which smite him." 

Éowyn smiled. "Do you know of the history of your sword, young Merry?" she asked. Merry pondered for a while before speaking.

"I was told that it was forged by the Men of Westernesse." 

Éowyn smiled again. "And what do you know of the Men of Westernesse?"

Merry thought again. "They were also called the Númenóreans, the first line of Men in Middle Earth." 

"That is right," said Éowyn, nodding. "They were a great race but fell to the King of Angmar. They were the most ancient of enemies to the King but he proved to be their downfall. But in turn, they would prove to be his. Glorfindel knew of the ancient magic that still remained of the once glorious civilisation. That magic was at work during our battle. You held that magic in your blade. The only magic which would break the spell upon the Witch-King, the spell that made him invincible." 

She gazed at Merry's blade.

"How otherwise could you explain why your blade is in tact and mine lies shattered." Éowyn appeared saddened by her last comment but turned to him and smiled. 

"You deserve the praise more than I, Master Merry and I shall not be the one to deny it to you."

"You deserve as much praise as I," said Merry, confidently. "I watched you against him, defending Théoden. I had never seen such courage." 

Éowyn went pink and laughed a little but said nothing. 

Just then, Faramir entered the garden, having just woken up. He stared at Merry and then at Éowyn, as he had never seen either of them before. Merry reminded him of the little people who had come with Gandalf, but Éowyn was what fascinated him. 

She was as beautiful and radiant as the sun rising behind them, her golden hair shone in the morning light, her eyes were so vibrant a blue of anything he had ever seen. 'Was she just a dream, an angel?' he thought. 'Or was she real, was she there in the garden?' He approached them now. 

"Good morning," he said politely. "I do not think that we have met, as if we had, I am sure I would not forget," he said, addressing Éowyn now.

She was already blushing and this comment had made her even redder. She lowered her head to hide her face. Faramir simply glowed; his smile was so broad. Éowyn looked at him now.

"I am Éowyn, shieldmaiden and Lady of Rohan, sister to King Éomer; and this is Master Meriadoc Brandybuck of the Shire."

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Éowyn, Master Meriadoc. I am Captain Faramir of the Ithilien Rangers, younger son of the late Denethor, Steward of Gondor." 

  
  
**A/N:** Don't you just love Faramir's very suave entrance and introduction? I thought that if Aragorn was going to fall in love with Éowyn, then he had better have some decent competition. And Faramir won't go down without a fight, I promise you that. Look at the difference between Aragorn's description of Éowyn and Faramir's. They are similar in a way; both refer to her as appearing to be a dream. But our ever so sensitive Aragorn sees past the mere beauty to the pain behind it, her dark past whereas Faramir looks at her beauty, he is smitten with her. She is the epitome of beauty. He thinks that she is the most beautiful creature in the whole of Middle Earth (aww, cute). Aragorn sees that and more in her. He knows her past, her pain, and sees beyond her outward appearance (All those years in Rivendell have taught him to read minds and souls and understand people. Damn elvish methods of telepathy! Never a secret to be kept with those damn blue eyes!)


	22. Faramir

**A/N:** Updated Elvish, and more

**Disclaimer:** Blah, blah, blah, you know the drill. This is Tolkien's stuff, not mine.  
  


**Chapter 22: Faramir**

            Faramir sat with Éowyn and Merry in the garden for some time. They told stories to each other and spoke of their pasts, adventures and experiences along the way. Faramir was very polite and gentlemanly towards her and friendly towards Merry. 

He was surprising relaxed, considering how tense she felt inside, though she hid it well. He was genuinely interested with Merry's journey with Frodo from the Shire, and curious about the Hobbits who lived there. He sat smiling and laughing, listening intently to everything that was said, every expression.

            Faramir was fascinated by Éowyn as he listened to her speak of her life. He delighted in watching her, his infatuation with her growing with every moment that passed between them. He had never felt like this around anyone before, she was so intoxicating in every way possible. He imagined himself drowning in her deep blue eyes, becoming lost in them every time he looked at her; being captivated by her smile, her face so glowing and cheerful. He could not live without her, now.

'The famous Captain Faramir, hero to his people, Prince of Ithilien and now, smitten with her, Éowyn, Lady and shieldmaiden of Rohan,' thought Éowyn. It was new, surreal to her, and she enjoyed his advances. He made her feel new inside as well as outside. 

She had been very reserved since her ordeal with the Witch-King but her brighter side was starting to emerge again as it had when Aragorn arrived at Edoras. It seemed a long time since he had ridden into the city, head held high, gazing into her eyes as he went. 

It had been long since a man had sought her affections in this way. Aragorn had never done so openly, though she could see how hard it was for him. She had always wondered at his reasons for concealing his emotions, it was not only with her, she could never tell what he was feeling. Out of the corner of her eye, Éowyn saw him enter the gardens. He came over to them almost immediately.

"I see that you have woken, lady," he said, smiling at her. "Captain, I must speak with you in private as soon as possible," he said, in a more serious tone.

"Yes, my lord," he nodded, now standing before Aragorn, and bowed. He took Éowyn's hand and kissed it.

"I do hope that we have the privilege to speak again, my lady." He flashed her a smile and left with Aragorn.

Éowyn sighed so loud that Merry overheard her. He chuckled.

"I think you may be in love," he said, quietly. 

Éowyn flashed him a look, a slight smile on her face. Merry laughed again. 

"And I suspect that he, unlike the other you share these feeling for, feels the same for you." He smiled at her.

"Oh, Merry," she said. "How can you know that?"

Merry looked at her, somewhat seriously. "Believe me, I think Aragorn was a bit worried. The way he looked at you when Faramir kissed your hand, he was a bit concerned. He was a little jealous if you ask me," said Merry with a twinkle in his eye. Éowyn scowled at him, but Merry knew that she was pleased. He grinned hugely. 

"I shall take my leave of you now, my lady," he said in a mock smug tone. She smiled at him as he walked away. 

Éowyn remained in the gardens for some time. She found its atmosphere pleasant and safe, as well as the freedom that she had so often desired, even though it was restricted. It was outside, which was where she enjoyed being most. 

She stood up and paced the garden, admiring its beauty and serenity. She did not notice Aragorn arrive. He approached her quietly and caught her hand, holding it in his own.

"Éowyn, may I speak with you?" he asked softly. 

Their eyes locked in a fixed gaze. She nodded, slightly dazed. He motioned for her to sit down on one of the benches and seated himself beside her. 

"I have been observing your recovery," he said. "You have done well."

"Thank you, my lord," she replied. "I have been eager to rejoin my brother on the battlefield."

"I would not wish it so," said Aragorn, firmly. "You are not fully recovered, although you are progressing well, I would not have my skills go to waste by seeing you fight again so soon after your ordeal."

Éowyn glared at him fiercely, as she had before she had ridden off, against his will and her brother's, to fight the Nazgûl. 

"Do you still deny that I am capable of fighting?" she demanded. "You have observed my victory, and yet you bid me stay here, away from battle. Why do you not see, I am as skilled a fighter as any?"

"Éowyn," he began, "I care too deeply for you to allow you to fight again. I feared the worst when I saw you, and I could not bear to see you that way again. You were too close to death for my comfort, and your brother agrees with me on this." 

"But I returned to you, safe and well. Do you not see? I have overcome this evil; I faced it valiantly and defeated it. I am able to face that danger again, Aragorn, I do not fear it." 

"But I fear for you, Éowyn," he said. "I could not live with myself if you were killed, knowing that I had allowed you to." 

"I do not fear death for myself," she replied sternly.

"But you fear it for your loved ones, as do I," finished Aragorn. "This is why I bid you stay." 

Éowyn looked into his eyes, hoping to persuade him otherwise. But they carried little expression and were unchanged by her. 

"You have seized the glory you desired, Éowyn," he said. "Now I ask you leave that. I wish to see you safe when this is done. You know my reason for that." Éowyn nodded but looked glumly at the ground. Aragorn lifted her chin up and looked into her face. 

"Gerich emel nîn, Aragorn, dan aborich nin emel lîn," (You hold my heart, Aragorn, but you deny me your heart) she whispered. "Estelon min lû gerithach han an nîn." (I hope that one day you will offer it to me) 

"Nach bein athar i-peth, Éowyn, ah nîon min lû nathich na nin," (You are beautiful beyond words, Éowyn, and I feat that one day you will be lost to me) he said. "You are young. There is much of your life still ahead of you. I do not wish to lose you to that, nor to another." 

"Melon le go ilya o emel nîn, Aragorn,[1]" she cried. "I would never leave you." 

"I fear another's affections towards you may sway that," he said. He stood up and kissed her hand. "I have stayed long enough. I shall leave you now." He turned swiftly and left the garden. 

  
  
**A/N:** I know, I know, you hate me for doing this. Éowyn's hard work to prove herself to Aragorn has now been crushed. Will Faramir help her out of this grief, or will she still cling to Aragorn's love? Read on, dear friends, read on. 

* * *

[1] "I love you with all my heart, Aragorn,"


	23. Fire, Ice and Crystal Tears

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of these characters. GET THE PICTURE?

**Chapter 23: Fire, Ice and Crystal Tears**

Éowyn sat in shock for some time. She was angry and disappointed with the answer he had given her. He refused to let her leave; he had kept her prisoner here. She did not want that. She longed for freedom for herself, as she always had. He did not see that. 

All her life, she had been trapped, like an animal, never free to make her own decisions of act as she chose. She would always be a child to them, her brother and Aragorn, never seen for who she was, but what she was, a girl. 

She despised that word. She was no longer a girl, but a woman. One capable of more than simply what was expected of her. She had been raised along side her male counterparts and proved herself equal, if not better than all. 

Since the death of her parents, she had been treated as a child, raised to care for her people, not to defend them, as she wished. Although she was the shieldmaiden of her people, she did not feel the freedom of that roll. She had been protected by her uncle, her brother, and her cousin, but she longed for freedom, the one thing they did not allow her. Her defeat of the Witch-King had not provided the results she had hoped for, but rather the opposite. 

Aragorn and Éomer had become more protective of her, which was the last thing she wanted. She had not seized the glory she wished for, only criticism for disobeying orders. 

            She was disappointed with Aragorn's response to her question. She had professed her love for him, but he did not return it, and did not wish to. She had given him her heart, fragile as it was, but he would not give his heart to her. 

Her heart now lay broken beside her sword. Crystal tears of the greatest grief fell from her eyes and shattered like her heart. Nothing could heal the grave wound she now felt. None could replace his memory or change the emotions she had felt when he was near. He would always be her first love. Nothing could destroy that for her. 

            The flowers around her had sprung forth for the coming of spring, but she was still closed to the sunlight, icy as the winter just past, still clinging to the coldness. A lily; beautiful, she was, pale and elegant, but firm and cold as ice. 

This was Éowyn as she sat in the Houses of Healing; she had become the isolated woman she had once been, in a time before Aragorn. But there was too, a fire within her, an anger. She felt it.

            Faramir hurried back to the gardens to see Éowyn. As he came through the entrance, he saw her, hunched over, seated on a bench beside a bed of red roses. Her face was buried in her hands, and a tear fall to the grass beneath her. So sad it was, to see a lady of her rank and superior beauty, to cry. He felt himself cry out to her, offering her comfort in her troubled state. 

"Éowyn," he ventured, tentatively. "Why do you weep, dear lady?"

Éowyn brushed the tears from her eyes with one hand and stared up at him.

"I do not weep, sire," she said defensively. "I was merely thinking. A Lady of Rohan is not known to shed a tear for anything."

"Which is why it is more grievous for one who does," replied Faramir, with a serious expression on his face. "What ails you, lady? You are not able to fool me that easily." 

"It is nothing to be concerned with, a childish worry." She laughed nervously. 

"It cannot be as small as that to cause the White Lady of Rohan to weep," he said, his face still rigid. 

"It is not for you to question a Lady of Rohan," she retorted, glaring at him. "It is my concern, not yours." She stood up hastily and left the gardens, heading for her room. 

Faramir stared after her. He was taken aback by her petulance and sensitivity about her troubles. She was a very independent woman, headstrong, as he had seen from her injuries in battle, and cold, in a way. She desired no pity or concern from any. She was cold towards those she distrusted or those who would be most likely to hurt her pride or her fragile heart. 

Éowyn stormed into her room. She was furious. She flung herself down onto her bed and sat still fuming violently. How dare he? How dare he rejected her with so pitiful a reason? Yes, she was young, she would not deny that, but she was no child in the world. 

She was not helpless and in need of protection and guardianship. She did not want that. She wanted to do what she willed and go where she wished. She had been kept behind bars for so long, caged, like an animal or a prisoner within the confines of her own city. Never was she aloud to leave the palace unless with an armed escort. 

She had despised being treated as though she were a fragile china doll. She had hated being patronised and people behaving as though she couldn't defend or look after herself. And now Aragorn, the one person she hoped would consider her an equal and allow her that freedom, had humiliated her in his rejection. She had never before felt more angry or ashamed of herself.  

A knock at the door broke her line of thought. She breathed in deeply so as to appear calm. 

"Lady Éowyn?"  a voice sounded from outside the door. It was Gandalf. 

"Come in, Gandalf," she said, standing up from her position. 

"You are grieved, I sense it. There is, too, great anger."

Éowyn nodded. 

"I will not deny it to you, Gandalf."

Gandalf's face remained solemn. 

"I know you have suffered much loss these past few days," he said. "But in this time of peril, there is need of strength. We must stand strong together and show no vulnerability." 

"I understand, Gandalf," replied Éowyn. "But more grieves me than death."

"I know of what you speak," said Gandalf. "Fear not, Éowyn. He has yet to find his path. There is much to accomplish. Sauron knows of his presence. He must now prepare for a course of action against Mordor and time is short."

"I shall wait, then."

"Do not despair. His destiny shall be revealed, and he will follow it. He must, he sees that now." 

"May I leave the Houses of Healing, yet, Gandalf?" she asked. "I dislike being restrained here, beautiful as it is. I feel as though I am a prisoner." 

"It is the wish of your brother and Aragorn that you remain here for your own safety," answered Gandalf. "They are afraid that you will be injured more gravely than before if you go to battle and do not wish to see you so, nor do I. It was Aragorn's particular request that you stay here." 

Éowyn sighed softly, she knew why Aragorn had requested her to stay here, but it angered her inside. She needed time to think, alone, and undisturbed. 

"I believe I am in need of solitude, Gandalf," said Éowyn. "Thank you for your words of wisdom. They were beneficial, as always." 

"I shall leave you now, then," said Gandalf and he walked towards the door, stopping just as he reached it. 

"Give it time, Éowyn," he finished. "He will come for you." And with that, he left. 

Éowyn sat on her bed for a time, then, standing up, she left her room. 


	24. Twilight

**A/N:** Updated Elvish and other parts, maybe…

**Disclaimer:** Anything you know is Tolkien's is his; anything else is mine.  
  


**Chapter 24: Twilight**

            It was just after sunset, hazy shades of pink, orange and purple were splashed across the evening sky. Éowyn stood at the highest tower overlooking Minas Tirith. It was a beautiful sight, the city glistening in the fading light of the sunset. A breeze blew softly, tossing her golden hair about. It was peaceful, and silent as she stood facing the darkening sky. She was lost in thought here. Nothing could disturb her. 

She remembered the conversation with Gandalf earlier. Who had he meant by 'he'? Could it be Aragorn? Could it possibly be Faramir? Aragorn had rejected her, and Faramir was maintaining his distance. Whether that was because of his uncertainty about his feelings, or her attitudes towards him that afternoon, or the possible competition with Aragorn, she did not know. 

Footsteps could be heard climbing the stone stairway up to the tower. Assuming to see Faramir, she turned around, only to come face to face with Aragorn. Their faces were so close as to almost touch. Aragorn saw Éowyn's expression became rigid, and she backed away hastily. 

"Man na anírach o nin?" (What is it that you want of me?) Éowyn snapped. 

Her eyes blazed with fury, burning a hole in Aragorn's heart. He could feel her pain; she had every right to be angry with him. 

"Im hiraetha, Éowyn," (I am sorry, Éowyn) he said softly. "I never intended to hurt you in any way." His hand reached out to stroke her cheek, but she turned her face cold. 

"I desire not sympathy, from anyone," said Éowyn, sharply. "But I desire recognition for my actions. That is all I have ever desired. I do not wish to be pitied." 

"And what actions are they," said Aragorn, angrily. "You disobeyed your brother, your uncle, and me. Your uncle now lies cold within the city walls. Is that what you wanted?"

Éowyn was taken aback by this sudden outburst from Aragorn, but frowned. 

"No, I did not wish for that," she exclaimed. "But it was not my actions which killed him. Your orders for my safety did nothing. I am not dead, I am well." 

"But dead breathed a grave hurt over you. Were it not for the skills of the healers, you would have been lost to us," said Aragorn. 

"But I was not lost, so let it be," she protested. "What is done is done, and it was done for a reason, whether we understand its purpose or not. You cannot deny that were it not for Merry and I, all would have been lost and I would have died in one way or another, either by Sauron, or the loss of so many I love in this world." 

Éowyn could feel the sting in her eyes as she held back tears of anger and grief. She turned away as she felt one tear trickle down her cheek. She was not going to let him see her cry after what he had said. She must be strong. She closed her eyes tightly and let the tear fall. When she turned back around, her eyes were red, however she tried to hide it. This did anything but lessen her hostile behaviour towards him. There was a long silence between them before anyone spoke again. 

"I must leave tomorrow," said Aragorn, impassively. "Sauron must be stopped before he destroys us all. I shall lead our men to the Black Gates."

"I will go with you," Éowyn said, boldly. "I refuse to stay here any longer."

"You will stay," ordered Aragorn. "You shall not march with us."

Éowyn turned on him fiercely. 

"I will not be deserted again," she retorted. "I will ride tomorrow morn. With or without your approval." 

"You dare to disobey your king, your brother, again," said Aragorn. "I do not wish to bring you out of darkness again."

"Then leave me be if it comes to that," she snapped. "What do I care, if you do not for me." 

"I do care for you, Éowyn, can you not see that," cried Aragorn. "You are blinded by your selfish resentment."

"And you are blind to the origin of that resentment," yelled Éowyn. "You do not wish to see it, so you mislead yourself into believing that it does not exist. Do not be a fool, Aragorn. Remove the obstruction from in front of your eyes and see your destiny."

"I know my destiny," said Aragorn. 

"Then, let me fulfil mine," Éowyn finished. 

They stared at each other for a few moments, unspeaking. Aragorn broke the silence. 

"You are destined for greatness," he said, softly. "I see it clearly. But not greatness in battle."

"Who are you to say what I am destined for? You are nothing to me," said Éowyn, coldly. "I am tired of being left behind. I am the only one to say whether or not I fight. I see your place in my future, but you do not see a place for me in yours. I fear that when you find me there, I will no longer be here." 

They were silent for some time until Aragorn reached for something, unclasping it from around his neck. 

"Then, I believe that this is yours to keep," he said, closing her hand around the cold metal of the item. 

Éowyn opened her hand to look at the object. Her face became mingled with fury at the sight of the golden necklace in her hand. 

"It was my gift to you, to guard and protect you," she said, bitterly. "You have renounced your love for me by returning it. I have nothing more to say to you." And with that, Éowyn turned to leave, turning back only briefly. 

"A lady will only remain as long as she feels she is wanted," Éowyn finished, resentfully. "When she senses her time has past, she will be gone. That is the way of a lady, to fade away when she is no longer desired. But I, I shall not go like that, Aragorn. I will not fade. People will remember me," she said. "But will you?" she added in a whisper. 

Aragorn spun around to face her, but she had gone, swift and silent as the passing breeze. 

"Renithin le," (I will remember you) he answered, in a whisper. 

            Aragorn remained after Éowyn had gone. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts, and here he had the opportunity. He had seen Éowyn and Faramir together and, try as he might, he could not stop the twinge of jealously burning within him. He could plainly see Faramir's affections for her, but Éowyn. Her feelings were reserved, though she accepted his affections. After tonight, he doubted whether Éowyn would ever speak to him. 

She had courage and competence, equal to his, and the temper and tenacity to match it. This was the third time he had denied her the chance to fight in battle; though, she had disobeyed once. She had been offended when he returned her necklace, the one she had given him to keep him safe. Her eyes had burned with fury towards him. She would not forgive him for that. He had wounded her heart worse than anything could have. 

This was his rejection of her. 


	25. Steel Lily

**A/N:** Sincerest apologies about the delay on this chapter, it has taken me so long to get any ideas for it or find time to write any of it. We are nearing the end, only seven or eight chapters to go, and then the sequel. Thanks to all of my reviewers, especially to Rosa Cotton, who has been my most frequent reviewer: every chapter so far, am I right? Enjoy what's coming. Also to anfieldgyul: I'm glad you liked that line in Chapter 24. To Salysha: I know you've been sick, hope you're better and sorry about adding more chapters before you finished the other ones. To one part of the crazy ladies: KK, what the hell are you doing? Review and stop reading Spuffy fics! Finish my story and set a good example for the rest of my fans! And to McGothic: thanks for the review, Sam, I'll try to get my Harry Potter fic up soon. (Yes, I am writing a few, none will be up until this story is finished and I have had time to go over them.) And finally, to TheOneAndOnlyElbereth, I can't believe you liked my story. Thanks so much. To all of you wonderful people, if there is anything you want to suggest, e- mail me, I am very happy to receive feedback on my writing and I will consider it. Yes, I know I promised to fix up the Elvish in my story before I posted any more, but this chapter has no Elvish, and it was taking too bloody long to work out. I'll try later. Let the chapter begin, I know you're all dying to know what happened after that hilarious argument. 

Updated chapter   
  
**Disclaimer:** Yeah, yeah, you know the drill. If not, read a different chapter; come one people, the disclaimers aren't great.  
  


  
  
**Chapter 25: Steel Lily**

            The evening air was cold, as icy as Éowyn, who stood in the gardens once more, lost in thought and in her grief; a lament for Aragorn. Again, she had tried, and again in vain, to make Aragorn see reason. He could not see, he would not see. And now, he would leave, and it would not be a happy parting for either party. They had not resolved their quarrel; there was still tension between them, and bitterness too. Tomorrow, he would ride again. And what if he did not return, as he had before? What if he did not pass through death and return to Minas Tirith once more? Even if his place may not be beside her, the people of Gondor needed their King. Should he not return, they would again be in darkness. 

It did not bear thinking of; she must not think such things. But she had seen how irate his expressions had been just before. Never had she seen him like that. She, too, had been cruel, she knew. She had spoken thus out of frustration and anger. But his response had been strange, something she had not expected. It had been harsh, cold, and true. He had meant those things. His heart was lost from her, forever. She could not win it back. What hope now remained here for her if Aragorn did not love her? All was lost, and all was forgotten. 

Aragorn spent the next day discussing the plans for departure and the attack on the Black Gate. The army was exhausted from the Battle of the Pelennor Fields; many had taken themselves to the healers in Gondor to be revived. 

Denethor had fled into the tunnels behind the city before the Battle of the Pelennor Fields had ended, to the tombs of his forefathers inside. There, he had killed himself after seeing all that the Seeing Stone wished him to see; out of despair, he had passed. Gandalf had told the news to the people of Minas Tirith when the battle was done. The news of Denethor's passing had shocked Aragorn. But the men were busily preparing themselves for the ride out to the Black Gates. 

The eve before the battle, Aragorn spoke with Gandalf, Éomer and Prince Imrahil. They were all uneasy about their chances in this final assault. If this failed, there would be no hope left for any race in Middle Earth. 

"Hear now the last words of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, before his death: 'You may triumph on the fields of Pelennor for a day, but against the Power that has now arisen there is no victory.' Do not despair, for these words were spoken out of such, but take to heart the truth in them. The Stones of Númenor do not lie, but it is possible that Denethor did not see all that is to come." 

"But, if this is as you say, what hope have we of a victory in arms?" asked Imrahil, anxiously. "Why risk our lives when there is nothing to fight for?" 

"I do not hope for victory in our battle," said Gandalf. "But two hobbits are, at present, making their way up the slopes of Mount Doom to destroy the Ring of Power. Our hope of success now lies with them, and only them. My aim is to draw the Eye away from them and towards the Black Gates, where we base our attack. A direct assault on the Black Gates will be unlooked for by Sauron. He is not prepared for such an attempt on our part, which, I pray, will give us an advantage. If we stay within the city, we only prolong our suffering. If we stand against Mordor, we offer some assistance to Frodo by drawing the Eye away from him." 

"We have barely seven thousand men to stand against all of Mordor," protested Imrahil. "This is but a jest. The Dark Lord will smile rather than fear, he will crush us, like a fly, with his finger if we dare to sting him." 

"He will not crush us, but try to trap us and take the sting," said Gandalf. "And we have many strong and skilled men amongst us. He will not smile." 

"Nor will we," said Aragorn. 

That evening was one of discomfort for all. None knew what their fate would be and all were uneasy. Éomer watched his sister over the course of the evening. She was a steel lily once more to his eye. He felt her pain and spoke to her. 

"Éowyn, dear sister," he said. "What has brought this woe upon you? For whom do you grieve?" 

"I grieve for none," she replied angrily. "I am now as I ever was before all of this." 

"That is my concern," said Éomer. "There is one for whom you grieve. I hate to see you as the steel lily you once were. It healed my heart to see you so happy, and it seems now dissolved." 

Éowyn looked at him with an emptiness in her eyes. 

"You have seen me in sorrow before," she said softly. "But never has that sorrow caused me such pain as this. I have overcome sufferings and grief, but never the pain of a broken heart. Over the years of my life, my heart was hardened, and when at last, I found love, I was rejected. My heart now lies shattered and I fear it shall never be healed," she said bitterly. 

"You will not be broken-hearted forever," Éomer assured her. "I would not let you be so." 

"I look not for love any longer," said Éowyn. "Let it be. It is done." 

The following morning, the armies assembled on the Pelennor Fields, ready to march on Mordor. The men were frightened; Aragorn could see it in their eyes. As he stood waiting for all to assemble, Aragorn wondered about Frodo and Sam, how they were faring with the Ring. It had been long since he had seen them both, having departed with Gandalf to Minas Tirith at the Great River. They had left with heavy hearts after the death of Boromir. He had fought with great courage, not caring for his fate. Now, too, there was need for great courage against Mordor. They knew not what they had yet to face and all were frightened, but the glimmer of hope that soon good would triumph shone brighter than ever now. Their fates rested with two young hobbits, scrambling up the slopes of Mount Doom on their hands and knees, unaware of what Aragorn and the others were planning or what had already befallen. Aragorn mounted Roheryn, observing the army of loyal and brave soldiers before him. Éomer rode up beside him. 

"Where is Lady Éowyn?" asked Aragorn. 

"She comes now, from the gates of the city," said Éomer. 

Aragorn lifted his eyes to the gates of the city. There stood Éowyn, clad in a white gown, which was flapping in the wind. As he looked at her, Aragorn saw the cold, stern expression on her face. That same that she had worn at Edoras, at the time of Gríma and the spells on her uncle, in sadder times, times of despair and trouble. It caused him pain to see Éowyn this way again. It was as if all hope of happiness had flown from her life and from within her. She was a steel lily once more. She did not move, but stood as a statue, staring at him. 

Aragorn led the army away from Minas Tirith, a sorrow in his heart for those who would not see the White Tower again. Also for Éowyn, as she patiently awaited his return to the city and the assurance of his safety. That image of her standing there would stay with him in this time of war, representing those who must always wait behind, never able to help. 

Again, Éowyn stood atop the walls, gazing out over the horizon beyond. It had been several days since the departure of the army and no news had returned of their safety. She feared for them. She longed to be there with them. Her mind floated back to Edoras, before leaving for the Pelennor Fields. She had spoken with Théoden not long after his arrival:

"Éowyn," said a voice from the doorway. Éowyn turned around to face her uncle. 

"I beg you, come out of your room," asked Théoden. "You have not moved since Aragorn departed." 

He walked over to the window where she stood. 

"I wish to ride with you to battle, uncle," she said. "I cannot see you all ride to battle again without me; to your death." 

"I will not allow that," he argued. "You are my niece, and the salvation of your people. They need you now more than ever." 

"The plains of Rohan will be silent," Éowyn murmured quietly. "Never will Riders of the Mark pass this way again. They will fall. An evil lies ahead, which only one can stop. The prophecy. The Witch-King will not fall by the hand of man." 

"I would have you smile again, not grieve for those whose time has come," said Théoden, firmly. 

"Aragorn's time has not come," said Éowyn. "He will live on, a great ruler in Gondor for many years to come." 

"He may not return from the Paths of the Dead," said Théoden. "You must accept that." 

These words faded with the winds, as they blew across the field of battle once more. Éowyn closed her eyes, listening to the breeze whisper to her. Meanwhile, at the Black Gates, Aragorn was assembled with the army on a hill overlooking the Black Gates. 

A messenger had spoken with them, telling them of the hobbits' deaths. Now, he led an army from inside Mordor out to face the forces of the King of Gondor in the final assault in the battle for Middle Earth. Aragorn drew his sword as the armies of Mordor approached. 

"Ride now! Ride to ruin, and the world's ending!" he cried, and charged forward on the mass of Mordor orcs. 

  
  


**A/N:** I just watched the preview for the Return of the King, and there were two fantastic lines that were in it, unfortunately both said by Théoden. So anyway, I sort of made other characters say them. See if you can guess who and which the lines were, those who have the Two Towers DVD. P.S. I don't actually have the Two Towers DVD but I did watch the preview both on the Internet (bad news, the link has been taken down) and on a rented copy of it.


	26. Forsaken

**A/N:** Hey people, I'm back! I just spent nine days driving around Victoria so I'm buggered and cranky. Good news, I have finished the story so here is the next chapter of the story. Yes, I know my promise about the elvish, but it's so hard to find enough. I have so many elvish phrases and there are so many different Sindarin dictionaries. It's also time-consuming trying to learn everything. I will try to get it done. My early chapter updates won't be finished either. Stress! Yr 12! HSC! I should at least get the end of the story up, but you'll have to wait until I get some reviews before I post the rest. Bye for now and enjoy!  
  
**Disclaimer:** The battle scenes in this are mostly Tolkien's, as are all the characters. Some of the lines you may recognise but whatever else that hasn't yet been covered is mine.  
  


  
  
**Chapter 26: Forsaken **

            The battle raged against the hosts of Mordor on the Field of Cormallen. The winged Nazgûl flew above their heads, striking fear over the shadowed land. Gandalf stood atop the hill. His eyes suddenly closed. It was as if he had been given a vision. He opened his eyes again and looked to the North. Then, he lifted his hands to the sky. 

"The Eagles are coming!" cried Gandalf. 

"The Eagles are coming!" shouted a chorus of voices. "The Eagles are coming!" 

The orcs of Mordor lifted their heads to see what this could mean. Far above in the skies, two massive eagles flew nearer, gliding above their heads. It was Gwaihir the Windlord and his brother Landroval, greatest of the Eagles of the North. Behind them followed a host of their kin, swooping down upon the Mordor armies. 

The orcs stood trembling at the sight of them. Fear overcame them and all ceased to laugh. A silence fell over the enemy; doubt filled their hearts. Gwaihir led the eagles in a charge against the Nazgûl, who turned and fled into the shadows of Mordor. A new hope filled the hearts of the riders of Rohan, knights of Gondor and the Dúnedain of the North. Again, Gandalf lifted his arms into the air and cried out in a clear voice.

"Stand, Men of the West! Stand and wait! This is the hour of doom." 

The earth beneath their feet began to quake. All turned their eyes to the see the Black Gates crumble, the Towers of Teeth fall. 

"The realm of Sauron is ended!" called Gandalf to all gathered. "The Ring-Bearer has fulfilled his quest." 

Gwaihir came down, landing not far from Gandalf. Aragorn led the other Captains of the West to pursue the enemy. He looked back to see Gandalf standing with Gwaihir on the hill. They spoke together for a short time, then he watched as Gwaihir lifted off again, taking with him his brother, Landroval and another that Aragorn did not know. They flew into the Black Lands to Mount Doom. Aragorn wondered now if they would find Frodo and Sam. After all they had been through, it was almost over. 

            The enemy had scattered when the Black Gate fell. The Men of Harad, Rhûn, Easterling and Southron either fled deep into the mountains or gave themselves up. Aragorn looked to the skies once more and saw Gwaihir soaring above them with the other two, bearing on their backs two small figures. Aragorn prayed that he had found the little hobbits. He turned the armies back towards the hilltop to rejoin Gandalf. 

Gwaihir landed beside Gandalf, followed by the others, and dropped two hobbits on the ground. Gandalf recognised them as Frodo and Sam. Both had fainted and lay limp on the ground near them. He thanked the eagles, who stretched their huge wings and soared into the sky again. Aragorn rode up onto the hilltop in time to watch Gwaihir leading the host of eagles north. He lifted the hobbits onto his horse and called out to the army. 

"We are victorious, my friends," he cried out to them. "Let us make camp to rest and celebrate the fall of Sauron, Lord of Mordor." 

The men all cheered and followed Aragorn and Gandalf to pitch camp on the Field of Cormallen. 

 Many days, now, they had been absent from Minas Tirith. News of victory at the Black Gates had reached them, but there was need to remain and be rid of the servants of the Dark Lord who still roamed the lands around them, although scattered. Twice, Éomer had sent word to Minas Tirith begging for Éowyn to join them at the camp; twice, Éowyn had given no reply. She had no need to go, no desire anymore. She had been caged. All want and opportunity of glory now lay shattered. 

The War was done. The enemy had been defeated. And Aragorn wished no longer for her presence. He had not asked her to come and join them on the field of battle; it had been her brother. She would not go to him. She would stay in Minas Tirith, away from Aragorn, and with Faramir. 

Aragorn did not desire her presence with them or he too would have sent for her to join the victory party. Éowyn remained at Minas Tirith with Faramir and there she would wait until her brother's return. After Aragorn's crowning, she would leave, and until that time she would avoid seeing him at all costs. 

            At the camp in Ithilien, Aragorn pondered whether or not to send for Éowyn to join them. Éomer had done so already, but she had sent no reply. He felt guilty about what had happened between them and he wished to make amends. He had no desire to make her angry or offend her. How he longed to see her, now more than ever. But she would not come. He could not make her. If she had wanted to, she would have done so. He knew her well enough for that. She was angry, and it would be long before she forgave him. 

            Éowyn looked out from the walls of the city to the east where she hoped to see the armies return soon. The people of Minas Tirith had been preparing for the coming of the King, home victorious from war. The city was buzzing with activity and plans were being made. But this did not excite Éowyn. For days, she had watched for the coming of the armies, for when Éomer returned, she would leave. On this day, as again, she waited on the walls of Minas Tirith, looking eastward; Faramir sought her. 

"I ask you, Lady Éowyn," Faramir began, as they stood atop the walls together. "Why do you stay here? Why not go to Cormallen, where dwells your brother? Has he not sent for you to request your presence?" 

"He has," replied Éowyn plainly. "But I would not go because I do not wish to." 

"You do not wish to see Lord Aragorn," said Faramir. "That is why you stay. For Lord Aragorn has not sent for you." 

"He has not," replied Éowyn angrily and turned away. 

"My company, I fear, is not as desired as his," said Faramir. "For I am not King of Gondor, nor Isildur's heir." 

"That is not true," retorted Éowyn. "I care not to be Queen of Gondor. I wish only to be free of my gilded cage, in which Lord Aragorn has locked me. Your company is more welcome than his." 

"Then why do you stand atop the walls of the city, day after day, waiting for his return?" asked Faramir gently. "You still love him, I know that. I see it clearly. Because of that, you cannot love me." 

And with that, Faramir departed, leaving Éowyn still standing high up, her hair lifted in the breeze. Suddenly, Éowyn realised what she had to do. She requested an audience with the Warden of the Houses of Healing. She would ask him if she could go to Éomer at the Black Gates. 


	27. Open Your Heart To Me

**A/N:** Hello again! Nice to see you all back again to read yet another chapter of my story. Thank you all for joining me for Aragorn's return from battle and arrival in Minas Tirith. I hope you like it. The next chapter is the crowning and maybe a wedding. Thanks so much to all my reviewers: Rosa Cotton, so many reviews from you, I've lost count; anfieldgyul, I recognised you on my MSN contact list; Salysha, I'd love to read more of the story, no luck with the lyrics, sorry; yagirl-123, don't worry, I have every intention of getting Aragorn and Éowyn back together, I mean, how could they not, but you'll have to read the sequel to see any major improvements; and to my best friend KK of the crazy ladies, loved the new chappie hun, get the rude poem one up soon, that will be fantastic. And my new reviewers, Jessica, Marina and Malinda, I'm so happy you like the story, there will be more to come. 

Maybe updated. Don't care. Nothing important.   
  
**Disclaimer:** Yada, yada, yada, you know the drill. This is mainly mine anyway, except the characters.  
  


**Chapter 27: Open Your Heart To Me**

 Éowyn rode swiftly on Windfola across the Pelennor Fields, heading north-eastward to the Crossroads and then north to the Field of Cormallen, where she had been told the army were camped. The road was easy and pleasant until she passed the Crossroads and started north to the Black Gates. The scenery became desolate and dead rather than green and healthy. 

She knew she was coming closer to Mordor. The Dark Lord may have been defeated but Mordor still remained an uninhabited wasteland. As the sun set over the horizon, Éowyn began to wonder when she would arrive at the campsite. 

She turned north-east again and followed the line of the Shadow Mountains. She came out onto a vast plain stretching as far as she could see. This was close to Ithilien, she could tell. The land here had become so lush and green. She wondered if this was the Field of Cormallen. 

Éowyn rode through the grasses for a time before she caught sight of a camp in the distance. She raced towards it with all speed. It was the campsite, situated near a small brook running by them. Many soldiers were wandering around the tents, one of which was much larger than the rest. Éowyn dismounted and led Windfola to the main tent. Leaving Windfola outside, she entered the tent. 

            Heads turned as she came in and approached her brother and Aragorn who were standing in the centre of the tent. She ignored the gazes and continued forward. Éomer looked towards his sister, an expression of great joy spreading across his face. Aragorn smiled and bowed courteously to her. Éowyn's face remained cold and stern as she came before them. 

"Greetings, Éowyn," cried Éomer, embracing his sister. 

"It is good to see you safe, my dear brother," she said, still unsmiling. 

"As it is you," he said. "You have recovered since our departure." 

"I have," she answered plainly. 

Aragorn stepped forward to greet her now; his face was almost harsh as he stared at her. 

"Would you do me the honour of walking with me, Lady Éowyn?" he asked. "For I wish to speak with you, alone." 

Éowyn stared at him in fury. How dare he ask her after all that has gone between them? She turned her face away, trying to think of something to say; but in vain. 

"Éowyn," said a voice sharply. "Will you deny response to the future King of Gondor?" It was Éomer. 

"I am uncertain as to why the king would wish my presence alone," she replied. 

Aragorn said nothing, but his face was filled with sorrow and regret. Éowyn wished to ignore these looks but they were there, yet, as he stared at her. Aragorn extended his hand for her to take. Éowyn stared at it for a time before taking it and following Aragorn outside. 

            It was a beautiful day; a warm breeze blew lightly across the grass. Éowyn walked beside Aragorn, her face towards the ground, not looking up at his face. They made their way up onto a hilltop not far from the camp. There they stood, gazing out at the plains. 

"Éowyn," he said. "I do not wish for you to dwell on these thoughts, these memories. You will only bring yourself further pain." 

"You have brought me pain enough," she said. "Let me be. I am done with you. I am content." 

"You fool only yourself," said Aragorn. "You still long for my love." 

"You fool yourself, my lord," replied Éowyn, indignantly. "I say to you now, again, I am done with you. I look now on a happy life without you." 

"Faramir knows, Éowyn," he said. 

"I understand that," she answered. "But he would have me as I am. He loves me." 

Aragorn nodded. "I cannot not deny that," he said. "He loves you so deeply, but can you live with the truth that you do not possess that same love for he? Can you accept him?" 

Éowyn was silent, and she looked into Aragorn's eyes. What was he saying? She stared deeper, trying to find answers. 

"I do not wish to be lonely forever, Aragorn," said Éowyn. 

"I would not see you so, lady," he said. "But, as you told me long ago, you do not wished to be caged." 

"That is true," she replied contemptuously. "And here am I caged in this city, unable to return to my people." 

"Soon shall you return to the place you desire to be once more," said Aragorn, gently. 

Éowyn paused a moment and then turned away. Was Rohan where she desired to be? She longed to see the grassy hillsides of her homeland, but where did her heart lie? 

"When first I saw you, Éowyn," Aragorn began, "you stood atop the steps of Meduseld, gazing out at the gates of Edoras. On my return from the Black Gates, you watched from the walls of the city as we came to the citadel. You seemed the same as in Edoras, my lady. Please tell me, what has brought this grief upon you once again?" he asked. 

Éowyn walked further away from him and stood silent on the hilltop, staring out at the cloudless skies and the rolling plains in front of her. Her golden hair fluttered in the warm breeze. But although it was so pleasant a day, Éowyn appeared as cold as the winter's snow. 

"When I return to Edoras, I shall weep for you, but there will be none to wipe away my tears," she said, sadly. 

This made Aragorn's heart break. Éowyn's grief was greater than he had once thought. So cold she was, standing still as a statue. He could see the shadow in her eyes, still remains of her former life, never to be gone, always to haunt her. Her beauty would stay forever cold and hard as the winter's snow, but as delicate as the snowflakes falling from the sky. She did not wish to change. 

Éowyn began to walk away from Aragorn and back down the hill. But she paused and turned slowly around to face him again. Her gaze was cold and dark, but the sadness remained. She spoke quietly to him. 

"I thought I had been alone until you entered my life, when I felt warmth return to my heart; but now I find I was alone then too." 

And with that, she turned away and went down the hill and back to the main tent. Aragorn stared after her as she walked away from him. She did not want to give up on any hope that she may have with him. But Faramir's heart would be broken if she continued this. 

He loved her and was prepared to deal with the fact that there was another to whom her heart belonged. But Éowyn refused to admit to it. 


	28. Aran Elessar

**A/N:** I may not have changed my Elvish into Sindarin yet, but at least in this chapter all the Elvish is directly from the book. This is the crowning of Aragorn. Yippee! Ok people, enjoy!  
  
**Disclaimer: **Most of the crowning scene is straight from the book. The characters aren't mine, but you know that. What happens after the crowning is basically my creative mind wandering.  
  


  
  
**Chapter 28: Aran Elessar**

            They did not stay long at the Field of Cormallen, as all were eager to return home to Minas Tirith. Aragorn was slightly anxious about the return. He was unsure as to whether or not the people of Minas Tirith would accept him as their king. Éowyn noticed his distress but chose to leave him in peace. 

The following morning, the entire army, led by Aragorn, Gandalf and Éomer, with Éowyn and the hobbits, left the Field of Cormallen and set off on the road to Minas Tirith. The party travelled for two days until they reached Minas Tirith. The people all gathered as they rode through the gates of the city, cheering and applauding them. 

Trumpets sounded as Aragorn entered the city, Frodo by his side, followed by Gandalf the White, King Éomer of Rohan, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and the Lady Éowyn of Rohan. Many were curious about the hobbits, as few had ever seen them. 

But all fell silent as Faramir came forth from the crowd, accompanied by Húrin of the Keys and four helmsmen, bearing a casket of black bound with silver. In his hand, Faramir carried a white rod. He held it out to Aragorn, kneeling. 

"The last Steward of Gondor begs leave to surrender his office," he said. 

But Aragorn refused to take it. 

"That office is not ended, and it shall be thine and thy heirs' as long as my line shall last," he said to Faramir.  Do now thy office!" 

Faramir rose to address the crowd of people before him. 

"Men of Gondor, hear now the Steward of the Realm! Behold! One has come to claim the kingship again at last. Here is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, chieftain of the Dúnedain of Arnor, Captain of the Host of the West, bearer of the Star of the North, wielder of the Sword Reforged, victorious in battle, whose hands bring healing, the Elfstone, Elessar of the line of Valandil, Isildur's son, Elendil's son of Númenor. Shall he be king and enter into the City and dwell there?" cried Faramir. 

Shouts came, voices united in a cry of 'yea', everyone cheered. Faramir continued. 

"Men of Gondor, the loremasters tell us that it was the custom of old that the king should receive the crown from his father ere he died; or if that might not be, that he should go alone and take it from the hands of his father in the tomb where he was laid. But since things must now be done otherwise, using the authority of the Steward, I have today brought hither from Rath Dínen the crown of Eärnur the last king, whose days passed in the time of our longfathers of old." 

Faramir went to the casket and opened it, revealing the ancient crown of white, with wings of pearl and silver. It was set with the seven stones of adamant, in the centre of which was a jewel, the light of which shone bright as a flame. Aragorn took the crown in his own hands and, holding it up, he cried: 

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome marthan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!" (Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place will I abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world)

Aragorn handed the crown back to Faramir, asking that Frodo bear the crown to him and Gandalf place it on his head. So Frodo then came froward, taking the crown from Faramir and gave it to Gandalf. Aragorn kneeled as Gandalf placed the White Crown on his head. 

"Now come the days of the King, and may they be blessed while the thrones of the Valar endure!" cried Gandalf. 

As Aragorn rose, the people around fell silent. Tall and proud as the kings of old he was, with the strength, authority and wisdom of many years in his eyes. He held an air about him, much greater than before. Éowyn watched him closely as he stood before his people. He seemed to her changed from when first she had seen him, and yet still the same as before behind it all. 

"Behold the King!" cried Faramir. 

Trumpets sounded clear through the city. Aragorn made his way up to the Citadel and his throne in the High Court of Minas Tirith and the Hall of the Kings. There was dancing and celebrations throughout the city. The Silver Tree blossomed and flourished in front of the Halls and all was well in Minas Tirith. 

            That night, there was a great feast in the Hall of Kings, in honour of King Elessar. All the captains of the army were present as were King Éomer, Prince Imrahil, Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin. Aragorn greeted them each in turn, safe from the war. He looked around the hall for Éowyn, but could not see her. Through the main doors, she entered the hall. 

She wore a gown of black, with delicate and intricate designs of gold embroidery on the hem of the dress and the cuffs of her sleeves. Around her waist was a gold belt, encrusted with emeralds. On her head, she wore a gold circlet set with a large emerald in its centre. As he saw her standing there, Aragorn remembered an old riddle sent by the Lady Galadriel: 

Elfstone, Elfstone, bearer of my green stone,   
In the south under snow a green stone thou shalt see.   
Look well, Elfstone! In the shadow of the dark throne   
Then the hour is at hand that long hath awaited thee. 

Éowyn approached him now, walking slowly and solemnly to where he was standing. She stopped before him and curtsied low, her face to the ground, avoiding his eye. 

"Good evening, my liege," she said, quietly. 

Aragorn placed one hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. He smiled kindly at her, but she did not smile back. Her eyes were dark, her expression cold. Her gaze seemed empty as she stared at him. 

"Éowyn," he said. "What must I do to make you smile again?" 

"There is nothing you can do now, my liege," she replied. 

"I wish to see you happy once more," he said. 

"Then do not cast me from your sight," she answered. "I would remain here if I were welcome." 

"You know that you are always welcome here in Minas Tirith," he said. 

"So it may seem," Éowyn said softly. "But I feel unwanted by you. You do not wish me near you." 

"That is not true," retorted Aragorn. 

"If it be not true, then why did you not allow me to fight beside you?" she demanded. "Why did you not send for me to join you after the battle, when Éomer did? Why do you push me away when I come close? Why, Aragorn?" 

Éowyn could feel the tears building up in her eyes. She shut them tight and looked down. A single tear fell to the floor. 

"When you were wounded," he said. "I worried constantly. When I forbade you to come with me to battle, I thought only of your safety. After the battle, I did not know whether you would accept my invitation to come after the way I behaved." 

"But always you push me away," said Éowyn. "Do you not care for me?" 

"Know that I care deeply for you," said Aragorn. He kissed her brow and went.  

"But do you love me?" whispered Éowyn, as Aragorn walked away. 

  
  
**A/N:** Didn't you just love that? Wasn't it so cute? All right, now we're so close to the end. 


	29. Flying On Broken Wings

**A/N:** Hey people! I'm back! I finally got Word working again so I'm writing again. I am proud to present Chapter 29 to all here present. We have an appearance by special guest, though perhaps not welcome. Thanks to all my reviewers, the regulars: Rosa Cotton and anfieldgyul, thanks for your support and praise through all this time; yagirl-123 and demon horse 900, so happy you guys like it; to one of my faves TheOneAndOnlyElbereth, I hope you like the final instalments and that they are up to your standards, lol; to Malinda, Marina and Jessica, hey, you guys have reviewed more than once, hooray! To Corinne, I promised a mention in the next chapter if you reviewed so here we go, thanks so much and keep reading, and finally, to my new reviewer minny2000, I know my chapters are getting repetitive, I feel that repeatedly, there we go again, more repeating, lol. Don't be put off, the best is yet to come and I promise, this is the last conversation between Aragorn and Éowyn that ends with one walking away. It won't happen as much in the sequel and I hope not at all. When I finish this story, I will be posting two chapters, the first one from each of the sequels I have prepared. I will ask all reviewers to decide which of the chapters sounds the best sequel. Mind you, both end very differently. I have them all planned. Choose wisely, or I won't be happy! OMG, LONG AUTHOR'S NOTE! Ok, on to the story now!

**Chapter 29: Flying On Broken Wings**

Over the next few days, Elves and Dwarves came to Minas Tirith to honour King Elessar and help to rebuild the city after the war. One evening, a party of Elves rode into the city on horses of white. So beautiful were these folk from afar. 

  
  
Thus came the Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel Lothlórien, and Lord Elrond of Rivendell and the Lady of Imladris. With them followed a large party from both Rivendell and Lothlórien. Aragorn was surprised to see them as they rode up towards the city. 

They arrived on horseback, making their way across the Pelennor Fields and passing through the gates of the city. The people of Minas Tirith stared at them, for so beautiful were their kind. They came through the streets and up to the High Court, where Aragorn greeted them on the steps. 

"I am honoured by your presence," he said. "Rarely do the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien come to the city of Men." He turned to Lord Elrond, bowing before him. Elrond smiled and brought him up again. 

"It is I who should be honouring you, King Elessar," he said. 

Aragorn looked now to the other guest and bowed. 

"Long has it been since last I saw you," he said. 

Arwen nodded in silence, staring at Aragorn. She did not smile or speak; only stared at Aragorn. 

            Aragorn led them inside the Hall of Kings. Legolas and Gimli greeted Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and the Lady of Imladris, Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond. King Éomer was there also, with Prince Imrahil and Lady Éowyn. Aragorn bid them step forward. 

"May I introduce to you all," he said addressing the Elves, "to Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, King Éomer of Rohan, and his sister the Lady Éowyn, shieldmaiden of Rohan." 

Éomer, Imrahil and Éowyn each bowed to the four Elves. The encounter between Éowyn and Arwen was awkward. Éowyn knew of the history between Aragorn and Arwen. Gandalf had told her of them in the past. She had heard about the Lady of Imladris and how her beauty matched that of Varda, Queen of the Valar and Lúthien Tinúviel, most beautiful of the Elves. But Arwen knew very little about the Lady of Rohan. She had heard of her feat of the Witch-King but nothing else. 

Now, as she looked upon her, she smiled to herself. 'Surely Aragorn would show no interest on her' she thought. 'She is but a child, not a lady. She fights with men and wields a sword. She is wild and untamed, no beauty is she.' She stood tall and dark, with all the grace of the Elves in her appearance and the wisdom of centuries in her eyes, her head held high, as Éowyn bowed before her, but not smile. 

Éowyn did not speak, only watched Arwen. Arwen said nothing, but her eyes said everything. They were cold as they gazed upon her. 'She seems so proud,' thought Éowyn. 'She looks down at me. She disbelieves me to be as great as she.' 

"I have heard much of your great deeds," said Galadriel kindly to Éowyn. 

"I am honoured by such praise from so great a woman," said Éowyn. "I do not know what to say." 

"There is no need for words," said Galadriel smiling. 

Arwen spoke at last. Her voice was low and soft. 

"Aragorn," she said. 

Aragorn turned to Arwen and nodded, following her outside to the gardens. Éowyn watched them go. Aragorn looked back at her briefly as he passed through the doorway. 

            Arwen stood in the garden, her dark hair fluttering in the breeze as it blew through the trees. Aragorn approached her slowly. Arwen spoke: 

"I waited long in Imladris for your return," she said gently. "But never you came. What happened to us, Aragorn?" 

Aragorn's face remained stern. He stared into Arwen's crystal blue eyes. 

"When I left Rivendell to go with Frodo," he began. "I explained my reasons. I am mortal; you are elf-kind. Your father wishes you to go with your people to the Undying Lands. You are their Evenstar, not mine." 

"But you are my Estel," retorted Arwen. "I will not go if you do not come with me." 

"I go with you," said Aragorn. "But only in your heart. Know that I still care for you, but I must stay here with my people." 

"These fools of men will follow any who stand before them," scoffed Arwen. 

"These men are my people, my family, my life, as yours are to you," said Aragorn. "I will not desert them now when they need me most. It is my destiny to rebuild Gondor to its former glory. The time of Men is come." 

"Does our love mean nothing to you now?" sobbed Arwen. "Do you not care for me?"

"It was a dream, Arwen; nothing more," he said. "Your place is with your people, and my place is here with mine." 

Arwen's eyes filled with tears as she stared at Aragorn in disbelief. 

"Then, another holds your heart now?" she asked. 

"You will always remain in my heart," said Aragorn. 

"But have I lost my place in it to another?" 

Aragorn thought about this. He did not know the answer to this. Did he love Éowyn? He could not tell. He had seen her with Faramir and felt the twinge of jealousy in his heart each time he watched her smile at him. Could he call it love? He had not yet professed it to Éowyn. She still held on to the hope that he did carry feelings for her. But what they were not even he knew. Aragorn remained silent as Arwen re-entered the hall. Aragorn followed slowly. 

Éowyn watched as Aragorn and Arwen entered the hall silently. Arwen passed Éowyn swiftly without speaking. Aragorn wandered over to Éowyn. He looked slightly bemused but faced her and spoke. 

"I bid Arwen go with her people, for that is where she belongs," he said. "I told her that her place was with them and not beside me. Our love has faded from the flame that burned brightly when we were young to naught but a glimmer in the shadows. It is now a dream." 

A realisation dawned on Éowyn, something she had not seen before. Her expression changed suddenly. It was graver than before, less light of heart. There was, in this speech, a message that applied to her also. 

Éowyn knew that if Aragorn cared not for her now, he never would. This was the truth she had battled all this time. The hope she held within her heart still pined for his love. But his heart pined not for her love; and may never. She turned her face away from him. 

"Lady Éowyn," enquired Aragorn. "Does something trouble you?" 

Éowyn faced him again, smiling bravely. 

"No, my liege," she replied. "Nothing troubles the maiden of the Rohirrim. She is fearless." 

She laughed bitterly but Aragorn did not smile. 

"There is no need to be always valiant, my lady," said Aragorn. 

"But I must," she replied gravely. 

"You have no need around me," said Aragorn, smiling. "I have seen you both at your strongest, and your weakest." 

"Forgive me, my liege," replied Éowyn. "But at neither you have seen me." 

"My opinion of strong may differ to yours, my lady," said Aragorn. "You bear so strong a will and a heart as I have seen in none other, and for that, I commend you." 

"What cares the King of Gondor for the heart of a shieldmaiden?" asked Éowyn. "I am not worthy of you." 

Aragorn's face saddened. 

"Do not think that I do not care for you, Éowyn," he said. 

"I am not sure of your feelings," said Éowyn. "And I do not think you are sure of your own." 

"You, also, must find where your heart lies," said Aragorn. 

Éowyn did not speak. Presently, a voice came from the other side of the hall. Aragorn turned his head. 

"I must leave you now," he said. "I give to you this as a gift. My blessing to go and do what you will with your life. I pray also that you uncover the secrets of your heart." 

He walked away to where the voice had called. A sadness fell over Aragorn as he left Éowyn standing there, still watching him. But he did not turn back. Éowyn understood now. She knew where she stood, and what she must do next. 


	30. My Gift To You

**A/N:** Hey, that was fast. I didn't expect to finish this chapter so quickly, nor did I realise how much I already had written. I hope you all liked Chapter 29. 

Remember when I said in my first Author's Note that Arwen would not appear in this version of the story? I lied. Thus proving that even though Arwen was there, Aragorn chose Éowyn over her. So HAHAHAHAHA! 

I am very close to finishing Chapter 31. It's fairly non eventful but emotional and very cute. Thanks to all my reviewers: I am, however, disappointed to find only 4 REVIEWS for Chapter 29. 

And so, to my precious few reviewers, 

Rosa Cotton: You're going to hate me after this chapter, apologies 

flipperjc: Nice to hear from you again, it's been too long 

anfieldgyul: So happy you liked that line. I tried to incorporate some of the movie scene with Aragorn and Arwen into this, as it was their break-up scene. 

minny2000: I'm very pleased to see that you, like me, are a proud Arwen basher. Go us!

Enjoy!

Updated Elvish and additional 

**Chapter 30: My Gift To You**

            Most of the Elves stood gracefully, conversing with the members of the court. Others refused to associate with Men. Too proud, thought Éowyn. She sought out Legolas amongst the crowd of Elves and men. She needed to speak with him urgently. She found him standing against one of the walls of the hall and walked quickly over to him. Legolas smiled as he noticed her approaching and followed her over to one corner of the room. 

"How does you, Lady Éowyn?" he asked, smiling at her. 

"Not as well as I would wish," she replied. 

"Why is that," asked Legolas, observing her carefully. 

"For some time now, I have wanted to travel, far from here, and now I feel it is necessary to leave Minas Tirith and my home at Edoras," she told him. 

"What is the cause for this, my lady?" inquired Legolas. "What has compelled you to make this decision?"

"It is my own will and choice to do this," said Éowyn. "I have need of solace and reflection but with that adventure and independence. I plan to travel Middle Earth alone; to explore those places I have heard about but never seen. The vast plains and mysterious woods." 

"I trust Éomer supports you in this decision," asked Legolas. 

"He knows of my plans, yes," replied Éowyn. "But none other than he." 

"Then you have not informed Aragorn," said Legolas, looking slightly confused. 

"No," she answered simply. "For I fear that if I inform him of this, then he will not allow me to leave." 

"Or perhaps it is you who will not allow him to let you," smiled Legolas, raising one eyebrow. 

Éowyn smiled back at the elf guiltily but said nothing. Then she unclasped the gold chain, which hung around her neck and pressed it into his hand with these words: 

  
  
"Mellon nîn, ceno Aragorn geri han. Pedo hon: han na ant nîn na le." (My friend, see that Aragorn receives this. Tell him: this is my gift to you) 

With that, Éowyn bowed to Legolas and made her way swiftly to the side door, passing through into the corridor. There was one last thing to do. 

            Aragorn scanned the hall in search of Éowyn. He desired to speak with her, as she had seemed distressed earlier. He wished to make amends and console her. But Éowyn was nowhere to be found. He caught sight of Legolas standing aloof from the rest of the crowd. Aragorn went over to join his friend.  

"Legolas," he asked. "Why do you stand alone here?" 

"I do not feel much like talking," replied Legolas. 

"Have you seen the Lady Éowyn?" inquired Aragorn. 

"I have," answered Legolas. 

"Tell me, where did she go?" Aragorn asked urgently. 

Legolas said nothing but only looked at his friend. He opened his hand for Aragorn to see and placed the delicate golden chain into his. 

"She bid me give you this message: Han na ant nîn na le," (This is my gift to you) said Legolas. "E bannen, Aragorn. (She is gone, Aragorn) You have lost her." 

Aragorn's eyes fell on the necklace, which lay in his hand. And then he realised. Everything he had said, all he had told her. She thought that he did not love her. And now, now she had gone and she would not come back. He did not know where she had gone or what her plans. He may never see her again. He had made the mistake of denying his love for her or not making his feelings clear to her. She had misinterpreted his words after so many rejections. What a fool he was. How could he have been so blind? 

            He glanced up quickly at Legolas, who nodded to his friend. Aragorn closed his fingers around the delicate golden chain in his hand. 

"I must find her," he said. "Before it is too late." 

And with that, he turned and hurried to the great oak doors of the hall and passed outside to the city in search of Éowyn. He could not let her leave without saying goodbye and knowing the truth. 

Éowyn wandered along the hallway, her black velvet gown brushed along the walls as she passed them. She would not be able to ride in this dress. Éowyn made her way back to her own chamber, disguising herself as Dernhelm once more. She found a back entrance to the palace leading from the hallway all the way outside to the city. 

It was dark as she made her way along it. A dim light shone through small openings in it at certain points along her way. She shivered slightly as a cold draught blew along the passage. She thought of Aragorn, and of Faramir. She wondered where they were at that moment, and what they were doing. She suspected that Aragorn was still in the hall, enjoying the company of the Elvish guests. She cared not anymore. She would leave all of this behind, and with it, her love for Aragorn. 

His mind was racing as he stepped outside into the sun and the city. His mind was unfocused, but his purpose was clear. He had to find her before she was lost to him forever. He remembered the conversations between them. How she had looked on him so pleadingly every time he told her that it was not meant to be. That she was too young and they were too different. How much Faramir loved her and how she could not leave him so cruelly. 

If she had chosen to heed Aragorn's advice, she would have married Faramir. But she had chosen to go than stay in his presence. She was broken-hearted and in despair. A fallen angel. She had not the strength in her heart to stay after he had wounded it so. 

Éowyn stepped outside, unspeaking and unseen, wandering along the city streets. She went immediately to the stables to fetch her horse, Windfola, and rode through the streets of Minas Tirith, down through the gates of each level of the citadel. She must leave the city before Aragorn realised that she had left, or he may find her. She wanted to run, to escape without having to bid farewell to those she loved. It hurt too much now for her to face them. 

He ran through the streets to the stables to search for her. If she were leaving, she would need a horse. She was not there, and neither, Aragorn noticed, was her horse, Windfola. He was too late. It would not take her long to reach the gates and depart from the city. She was lost to him, as it seemed. But he had to try and bring her back. They could not part on these terms. He would not allow it. He needed an answer. An answer to the one question he had to ask her. The one answer he desired most as to her departure. One she had not answered. Why? 

As she passed through the main gates of the city, Éowyn sighed deeply. She was free. Free to roam this world. To do all she wished to do. To be what she wished to be. But still an emptiness lingered within her soul, and her heart. There was a wound un-healing that would always remain while she was absent from the city. Absent from her love. 

            Aragorn ran down through the citadel to the main gates of the city. A guard stood atop the walls. Aragorn called up to him. 

"Good sir," he cried. 

"Majesty," replied the guard, bowing before him. 

"Have you let the Lady Éowyn pass through these gates?" asked Aragorn. 

"How looks the lady?" inquired the guard. "For I do not know her." 

"She is fair as the dawn, with hair golden as the sun," said Aragorn. "But the lady would have been dressed as a rider. Her horse, Windfola, she rode." 

"I have not seen a lady of that description pass through here today, your majesty," replied the guard, shaking his head earnestly. "I am sorry I could not be of more help to you." 

Aragorn gazed blankly out over the Pelennor Fields. He sensed that Éowyn had gone. He no longer sensed her presence within the walls of Minas Tirith. But she had passed, unseen, unheard, unnoticed, from the city. 

She was gone. 

**A/N:** Well, how was that for a cliffhanger! My best yet! I am hoping that none of my readers will kill me over this ending. Éowyn leaving was not what everyone else had in mind, I'm sure. They were all asking me when Aragorn and Éowyn would get married. I couldn't very well tell them the ending. They did know about the sequel though. They don't know that Éowyn dies in that one. Oops, gave it away laughs. Just joking. This is not the end yet. There are two more chapters to go. We still have to find out what the one thing was that Éowyn had to do before she left (I'm so cruel, aren't I). Laughs evilly. Muahahahaha. 


	31. Forget Me Not

**A/N:** Warning to all my readers: beware the extremely long author's note at the end of this chapter, it is an author's note, not part of the story, so don't get too excited. Please read it, though. It is my last official chapter with thank you's and information on the sequel polls. Do not read now or you will never finish the chapter! 

I nearly forgot that I hadn't posted this chapter yet; I can't believe it! I was going to post the final chapter and the sequel chapter and give away everything! That's what happens when Telstra cuts off the Internet connection for 2 weeks (bastards). Anyway, here are the answers to all questions. 

Updated Elvish and more

**Chapter 31: Forget Me Not**

Éowyn looked back over her shoulder as she rode fast away from Minas Tirith. It seemed so far away now, and yet it had been only minutes. She wondered how long it would be until they realised that she was gone from them. Would Aragorn try to find her? Would Faramir help him? She shook herself out of these thoughts. She needed to remain focused. 

It would be dark soon, and she had nowhere to sleep that night. The world of Middle Earth was hers to roam freely now. She could ride all day, as Aragorn had done. She could defend herself if she needed. There were no men to protect her and no cage to keep her. She was finally free. This feeling was so intense. Far beyond anything she had ever felt before. 

It was clarity. It was solitude. It was independence. She breathed in deeply, taking in the sights and smells around her. She nudged Windfola forward to ride on into the sunset. Before her now lay only the rolling hills and plains of Gondor. 

            Aragorn returned to his room. Where could Éowyn have gone? Why had she gone? When had she left? Why had she not said her farewells? 

He tried to answer these questions as he walked through the palace to his chambers, but without much success. He reached his door and wandered over to the bed, where something caught his eye. It was a letter. Aragorn picked it up and began to read: 

Elessar, meleth nîn (my love), Aragorn

            I will be far away by now. You have made it clear to me that you care not for me in the way that I had once hoped you did. I have left the city so that I will be gone from your sight. I shall only cause myself pain if I believe that you love me. My place shall not be by your side, nor will it be beside Faramir, nor beside my brother at Edoras. 

I have the intention of travelling throughout Middle Earth, as you have done over the course of your life, so that I may be worthy of you and better understand the ways of this world. I pray, that when I return, you are assured of your feelings towards me. I must do the same, to explore my soul, without the distraction of my heart to mislead me. I shall return when I have found my answers, and I hope that you will have done the same in my absence. 

Never forget my undying love for you, wherever our paths may lead us, or however long we are apart. Do not deny me that memory, for it is all that remains of what once was. It was neither a dream, nor a reality for me, but I accept your choice. You hold my heart, Aragorn. I gave it to you as you rode off to battle. After you denied your love for me, you returned it. I give it to you again, this time, not as a token of my love, but as a reminder of everything we have been through together. This is my gift to you, may you keep it close to your heart always. I hope to return to you again someday to retrieve it from your keep. An govam abdollen (Until next we meet). 

Ú-demado nin, Estel. Renithon le. Ilya o meleth nîn, ilya o emel nîn, na lîn anuir. (Forget me not, Estel. I shall remember you. All my love, all my heart, is ever yours) 

Namárië, (Farewell) 

Éowyn 

His hand shook as it held the note. Everything she had said, her true feelings, her heart poured out to him through that note. This had answered his questions. His mind began to spin once more, a flurry of thought and emotion. 

Aragorn steadied himself and sat down on the edge of the bed. The note slipped from his grasp and fluttered to the cold stone floor. He rested his head in his hands and sighed. He thought of Éowyn. Where was she at this very moment? What was she thinking? Were her thoughts of him, as his were of her?  He extended one hand and picked the note off the floor and read it once more. There had to be something. 

His eyes scanned the paper in his hands. 'Until next we meet'. She would come back. But when? How long would she be away from the city, from those who loved her? Why had she said nothing to him? Why had she not told him how she felt? Questions raced through his mind for hours as he sat there, staring blankly at the letter. Evening slipped on and it grew darker. He prayed that Éowyn was safe and had somewhere to stay for the night. A frosty wind blew in from outside. Aragorn shivered slightly and gazed out of the window over the rolling hills and plains of Gondor. 

            Faramir wandered the city, searching for Éowyn. He wished to speak with her, but had no success at the banquet. He suspected that she was wandering around the city somewhere, trying to escape the crowds inside the High Court. As evening fell and shadows began to engulf the city, Faramir grew tired. He returned to his room to rest after the day's events. When he entered, he noticed a note lying on his bed. He took it in one hand. It read: 

My dear friend, 

            I pray you, do not resent me for my departure. But understand my reasons for doing so. I have need of time to myself, time to think and reflect on my actions. A chance to be free for once in my life. I felt the need, the desire, to seize this chance to do so. I have left Rohan and Gondor, my home and my heart, to explore the vastness of these lands of Middle Earth. 

I bid you be well in my absence, that I may see thee safe on my return. Do not weep for my departure, as time flies swiftly and on its wings, I shall come again to Minas Tirith. 

I thank you for all your kindness during my stay with you in the Houses of Healing. I enjoyed the time we spent together and am glad to have found such a valuable friend. 

I wish you every happiness in whatever life brings you. 

I pray that our paths cross once more, my friend, 

                                    Éowyn 

Faramir's heart was filled with grief and a sense of loss. Éowyn was gone, and she had not said anything to him. He could not say that it came and a surprise after all she had said to him regarding Aragorn. He suspected that he was one of the reasons she had left. He wondered if Aragorn knew of this. How guilty he must feel if Éowyn had told Aragorn what she had said to him. 

Éowyn's safety and happiness were his two most important priorities and still were. Although he could not be by her side, he imagined he was, always watching over her. She was his angel, and he was her guardian. He would protect her in spirit if he could not do so in being. Faramir thought of her, as he drifted into a deep slumber, riding Windfola alone over the rolling hills and plains of Gondor. 

**A/N:** I am both proud and sorry to say that this is the final chapter I will write on this story. I would like to thank all of my reviewers; I have enjoyed reading your responses to my chapters, the praise, ideas, and constructive criticism (yes, that too). This story was for you and you have all played a part in shaping it to be what it is today (everything but the Éowyn leaving Minas Tirith bit, that was my idea so you still have a right to blame me). 

When I posted this story about five months ago, I knew I hadn't chosen a very popular pairing (aside from it being Aragorn/Éowyn, there were only two pages of other stories and still are!). I never expected to get this much feedback in so short a time, and not all of you have been reviewers since Chapter 1 was first posted. I always get a buzz when someone new reviews my story (I'm sure we all get that) and I'd like to say thank you for being Aragorn/Éowyn fans. We rule!!! Does funky dance Ok, I'll stop now before I embarrass myself (oops, too late). 

Thank you all so much for reviewing, I really appreciate it. I enjoy reading the comments and hope to see more of them (hint hint, nudge nudge). If you want closure to the story, read the sequel. I will set up a poll at the end of the first chapters of each sequel to see which one you want for the full sequel. There is one good sequel and one bad. I will tell you this as a hint for deciding which to choose: I love excitement in my story and there are always surprises. Now, to the thank you's: 

Rosa Cotton: I appreciate your devotion to my story over this 5-6 month period; you will not be disappointed. I hope you loved this chapter as much as I did. It's such a cute one and I've been writing those letters since about Chapter 14. Sequel is coming soon, I'm sure you'll love it :)

minny2000: I'm very pleased to hear that you liked the ending, I was sure that most would just about kill me. 

TheOneAndOnlyElbereth: Nice to see you back in the land of Fanfiction. Hope all went well with your HSC and best of luck. My cousin just finished and left for Surfers today. She's ecstatic. I'm already planning my trip to England and France for the end of next year when I finish mine. I was very pleased to see that I have made you even more of an Arwen basher, lol, sniff I feel so honoured sob. And yes, I loved Legolas's very gentlemanly attitude. He's so cute when he's like that. 

yagirl-123: I see you liked the chapter. Apologies for the delay on this one, as I did promise that it would be up soon. Our Internet has been down for the past 2 weeks and it seriously pissed me off. Well, finally it's back so I posted it as soon as I could. 

Calleigh: I'm sorry for being cruel, but it's my job as a Fanfiction writer :) you must understand. 

AngelOfCrimsonTears: YAY! New reviewer! Party! Woohoo! Dances around stupidly Go me! Yes, I know, I'm so cruel grins evilly but hey, that's me. 

i cant find the snitch: Cool, another new reviewer, go me! Yes, Arwen is gone, forever with any luck (why am I saying that, I'm the bloody writer, of course she's gone forever!). I know perfectly well that I am one of the cruellest people on the face of this earth (and beyond), so stop flattering me, lol. Hope you stay on to read the sequel. There will be some lovely Aragorn/Éowyn moments in there, that's a promise. 


	32. Epilogue: Away From You

Ok, this is the same as what I posted exactly a week ago, only with updated thank yous. There is no more Epilogue, sorry to disappoint people. However, if you didn't see your name in the last one, then it's probably here now. Thanks again to everyone. This was for you guys. 

**Disclaimer:** I realised just then that for the past 3 chapters, I have forgotten to put disclaimers. But the only things that I needed to disclaim were the character and places. The entire storyline was mine! MINE, I TELL YOU! Muahahahahahaha!!! Ok, I'll stop now. I'm getting a little carried away (is that an understatement or what!). I'M A MENTAL CASE! But you all knew that. So, on to the story! 

**A/N:** (I have to date this: 29/11/03 or 11/29/03 for you weird people; why can't you be normal! Lol.) 

My massive note is at the end of this chapter. Don't get too excited, this chapter isn't that long. I just had no idea how many people I had to thank. Long list, and that's not everyone. Just to say a quick thanks to everyone (the individuals are at the end), it has always been for you guys that I write this, and that there is a reason for my posting this today. It's Hope in the Darkness's 6-month anniversary! On this day, 6 months ago, I posted the first chapter of this story! How weird is that? Only 6 months! Anyway, here we are, the final instalment. 

I think I updated this. It's only short anyway. 

**Epilogue: Away From You **

**Freedom - **

             The sky was splashed with brilliant shades of pink, orange and purple as Éowyn woke the following morning. She had spent the night on the edge of the Druadan Forest, just north of Minas Tirith, near Anórien. 

The sun was rising over the hills in the east, flooding the lands around in light. Éowyn was lost in the beauty of the sunrise, its simplicity and its brilliance. She wondered how many more she would see like this. 

She sat on the ground in silence, watching the sky change as the hours passed by. There was no hurry; she had all day. 

Éowyn began to muse about where she would travel to, and what she hoped to see and accomplish in her time away. There were so many places to go and see; she could hardly keep track of the thoughts racing through her head. 

She planned her route in her mind. She wanted to see Merry, to thank him for all he did during the battle of the Pelennor Fields, and to give him a gift. She would go to the Shire and deliver it, perhaps see the other three hobbits. Then, she would go to Dol Amroth and visit Prince Imrahil. 

Her mind wandered back to Aragorn, and what he might be doing at that time. 

She shook herself hastily out of this daze. She had to forget him, or she would never be free of him. She rose from her seat and wandered over to where Windfola was grazing. Éowyn ran one hand over his mane. 

"We should go soon," she said quietly. "We have a long ride ahead of us." 

She took hold of his bridle and walked him away from the grass to where she had put her belongings. She packed up the camp and mounted Windfola, directing him towards the Great West Road. 

Along that road, much further east, lay Edoras; and beyond that, over mountains and across plains, the Shire. She desired to see her home before she embarked on this visit to Merry. She could gather more supplies for her journey, as she had only managed to take a little from Minas Tirith. They galloped through the forest and past Ered Nimrais, heading for Rohan. 

**Aragorn Reflects - **

Aragorn had barely slept that night. When the following morning came, he was still thinking, still worried, about Éowyn. He walked over to the window and gazed out at the vivid sunrise, looking out as far as he could, as if to find Éowyn. 

His head was swimming with memories of their time together. He recalled the first time he had seen her, standing tall and proud on the steps of Meduseld. She had grown so much from the child she was when first they met. 

Although she had seen much grief at such a young age, she had experienced little of life. She now had built on that knowledge and matured into a woman of deep thoughts and reflection. She was no longer as rash, however she still retained her stubbornness. 

He laughed a little to himself when he remembered some of their quarrels, but stopped himself. Perhaps, maybe it was those little disagreements that had caused her to imagine that he didn't care, caused her to leave. 

She had cared for him so that every time he pushed her away, she had been broken to an extent, until finally she needed to go far away to heal her heart. 

He pondered this for a while as he gazed out of the window, watching the sun rise over the plains. 

**From Rohan to Rivendell - **

            Éowyn had spent the night within the walls of her home. There was a feeling of security, as there had never been. Gríma was gone from there, never to return. She saw to it that Windfola was well fed. He was happy to be back in the stables at Edoras. 

Although the Gondorians took good care of the Rohirric horses, it was nothing to how they were looked after in Rohan. Éowyn had gathered supplies for her journey to the Shire beginning the following day, as well as receiving a hearty meal within Meduseld. She slept well in her own bed that evening. 

The next morning, Éowyn saddled Windfola for the ride out of Rohan. They were to visit the fabled and beautiful Rivendell on their way to the Shire. 

They would go through the Gap of Rohan and follow the Misty Mountains to Rivendell, staying for a number of days to enjoy the beauty and serenity, then cross the Fords and stop in Bree before going up to Hobbiton. It would take a good a month or two at least to cover this on horseback. 

She had the intention of staying in Hobbiton for a few weeks, to enjoy the quiet countryside and charming atmosphere before journeying around the land of Eriador and make her way back down into Gondor to Dol Amroth. 

She longed to visit the city, and to see Imrahil again. She had not had long to acquaint herself with him, but from what she had been told, he was very kind and had become friends with Éomer during the course of the war. From there, she would journey west, into the unknown lands, but for how long, she did not know. 

When all of this was done, she would return to Minas Tirith to face Aragorn. This was her plan. By then, she would be free of his memory and could manage to see him again without feeling the same as she did now. Her heart ached so to leave him, and still did now. The thought of not seeing him for another two years was almost too much. But if she were to prove herself worthy of him, well travelled and wise, she must go through with this. 

Éowyn mounted Windfola at the steps of the Golden Hall and rose down through the city and far out over the plains. She wondered now when she would look upon her home again. She thought of Aragorn. He had ridden up to the city and seen her atop the steps of Meduseld. 

She remembered also the morning after Théodred's passing. She had been angry and distressed, but he had comforted her. The words he had spoken meant more now. At the time, she had desired only to be left to her grieving. As they sped away from the city, Éowyn whispered to the winds: 

"Hope still shines in the darkness for us, Aragorn." 

The End

**A/N:** Sniff sniff It's all over!!! Sniff sniff. I wanted some closure for this one. I was going to put a prologue at the start of the next one, but that would spoil some of the story. So the time between this story and the sequel will remain secret, until I uncover parts of what happened in between as we move through the second. 

Now, my thank you messages to those who reviewed more than once, have been reading it from the start, those I know, or have e-mailed etc and haven't previously mentioned (I'm very specific aren't I). There are 2 whole pages!!! OMG! And these aren't all of them!: 

anfieldgyul: Van, thanks for everything, all the suggestions and reviews. It's been so nice to hear from you every time I post a new chapter, even if it's sometimes delayed, lol. Stick around for the sequel and I'll try and catch you on MSN sometime in the next few weeks. 

Calleigh: Thanks for the compliment :) and yes, there will be more to come, straight after this. I hope to hear from you in future and thanks again for the support. 

demon horse 900: I can assure you that you will find the ending perfect, as long as you vote for it ;) and all goes well. There will be more Aragorn/Éowyn to come and much cuter and more in love than before. 

Egleriel: I'm glad you like my story so far and I hope you got my e-mail and enjoy the rest of the story. 

flipperjc: Hey Jen, thanks for all of your praise and support with my story. Don't worry; this isn't the end of me yet. I hope you've enjoyed this time as much as I have. 

Forrie Rich Soph Luce and Bills: Aww, thanks guys. I'm flattered that you like it.  

i cant find the snitch: Lol, nice to see that you will be staying for the next instalment. Thanks for the compliments, hahaha. 

Jessica: I'm glad you have enjoyed the story and keep enjoying it. Hope to hear more from you in future. 

Kiki: Hey, it's nice to know that you've been reading this since the start. I'm getting a lot of those at the moment. Thank you for following it and stay around for the sequel :)

Lady Shinimegami: I apologise, my e-mail to you went astray and didn't send properly. Regarding the tenses, that part of the story would have been written about 6 months ago when I was still undecided on the tenses and partially changing it. I probably wrote it at 4am and in a somewhat dazed state. Forgive me for that, I'll go back and change it later. The history of what happened before the story is a mystery to even me, or at least the specifics are. Aside from those things, I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to e-mail me about anything else you want to know (no spoilers though) ;)

Lady Taliana: OMG! I commend you for sitting down and reading the whole of my story in one afternoon. Round of applause, I couldn't have done that! Congratulations and thank you. I'm glad you liked it, and if you remember any of those other things you wanted to say, feel free to e-mail me. 

Leah: It's been a while since I had anything from you. I hope that I haven't left it too long to update and lost you as one of my reviewers. Enjoy this final instalment and, if you want, the sequel. 

Lyggy: Ok, I'm updating to add more thank yous, mainly those I already know. I love your story, as you know, and I have results from you about the sequel poll. Thank you for supporting my first fanfiction ever, and hopefully the second. There is a Harry Potter comedy going up within the next two weeks, I promise, if you're interested. Keep up the work on yours and good luck. 

Malinda: I hope you're still reading the story and enjoyed the conclusion. Stay tuned for more Aragorn/Éowyn stories. 

Marina: I haven't had any reviews from you in a while. Hope you read this. Thank you very much for the feedback, I have appreciated all of it. 

mcgothic: Hey Sam. Good news, the Harry Potter story will be up within the next week, so watch out. I hope you like it. 

ME!!!!!!! & Babe: Edwina! How many times have I warned you about trashing me on Fanfiction.net! Yes, I know you hate me and you think I'm crap (you tell me every day), but can you just keep that for home and not send me reviews telling me what I already know!!! If you're not careful, I'll steal your Delta CD, and break it (I already copied it, so there, :P)! And no, you're not going in my Harry Potter story as a Metamorphmagi either. Grumbles Bloody little sisters and their ridiculous requests. 

minny2000: Thank you so much for all of your suggestions and reviews. I hope you liked this last chapter and enjoy the sequel. I promise you that Faramir will be happy with the final result and no one will be disappointed. I couldn't bear to have his heart break. He's far too sweet to deserve that. 

Rosa Cotton: My most devoted reviewer, by far. Still watching for that sequel. Mine will be up very soon, today, in fact. I'll post it now. Nice to seen you so happy about how I finished it. I know you got my review on your Aragorn/Éowyn romance fic, so keep writing it. I want to read more! Thank you for all of your support over this period (it's only been six months; how time flies), all those quotes from my story that you loved and added to your reviews (there were lots of those, lol) and the many suggestions you gave me as to what the story should be for the next chapter, I appreciated it all. I bet you will be the first one to review my sequel :) I can just see it coming. 

Salysha: Thanks for all the reviews, e-mails, etc over the time I've been writing this. I know you've been busy with classes and your own story and website. I see everything is going well and I hope you liked this last chapter. Best of luck with your work, stories and all. Hope to talk to you sometime in the next few weeks. 

Sar and Ban: Hey guys! You get a mention in my story, seeing as you missed the last chapter. Hope you keep reading this over the hols and enjoy. 

shikonstardemon: It's been a while since I last got a review from you; nice to hear from you at last. The sequel poll is up and I'm just about to post the first chapter. I hope that you like it. 

TheAngelofCrimsonTears: I hope that this chapter and the previous one have appeased you and ended this story nicely. The wait for the sequel will not be long, so no more cliffhangers until after, lol. Thanks for all the feedback on my story; I have enjoyed the comments, they make my day. 

The crazy ladies: It has definitely been a while since I heard from you, KK. I hope you're feeling better and for god's sake, empty your inbox when you get out of hospital. I've been trying to send you a Get Well card! 

The Dark Wanderer: Well, I can't really say that you're a new fan. I'm very pleased to hear that you've been reading my story since I first posted it. Am I really such a good angst writer that I nearly bring you to tears each chapter? I'm flattered, but I manage to bring myself to tears with laughing in some cases. Funny, huh (no pun intended). Thank you so much for supporting this story and I hope you read the sequel :)

TheOneAndOnlyElbereth: I remember the first time I got a review from you; I almost died of shock (good thing I didn't). Since then, I've had a number of reviews from you (us Aussies have to stick together, lol). 

yagirl-123: You have become one of my favourite reviewers, so consider yourself flattered in return for all the reviews I've received from you :) and future ones to come, I hope hint hint. Lol. 

Yullia: I'm glad that you like the story and I hope you keep reading. There is more to come and I'd love to get feedback from you on the sequel. Thank you very much for being a fan of my story, and I hope it pays off. 

Zanna Avons: No more cliffhangers, well, not until the sequel. I suppose this ending is a bit of a cliffhanger in some respects. Sorry sheepish smile, please forgive me. The sequel is ready to go up as soon as this goes up. Thanks for all the reviews, I have loved hearing from you and hope to in the future. 


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